#oh to go back to toledo

[ayquemepierdolanovela]

WHAT'S JUST HAPPENED!!??

First, they take Jaime reading the diary completely off the table after we’ve been waiting for weeks for him to read all about Marta’s feelings. Turns out he doesn’t need to because she’s very obvious.

And Luz!? When I tell you I almost shat a brick when Jaime told her Marta was in love with a woman when I skimmed the episode before work. Oh, my. Luckily I was all alone and nobody saw me lose my shit.

Luz gave him such good advice, though. She and Carmen are vying for the best BFF in Toledo and possibly the world. And it totally worked. The way Jaime touched Fina's arm was very telling; he's made a decision and it's going to be good for us.

And don't get me started on the preview, I’m so anxious about tomorrow. Fina’s taking her last shot, and it’s romantic and desperate and everything I want to see. Don't even think about saying no, Marta, or else I'll have to travel back in time into a fictional world and slap you in the face and your face is a very good face and I wouldn't want to ruin it.

[dianawinchester03]

Season 1, Episode 5 - Bloody Mary

Series Masterlist

Third Person POV

Currently in the Impala, Sam's asleep in the passenger seat, Y/N is in the back playing Sudoku in the newspaper and Dean was the drivers seat of course. Sam starts to shake in his sleep, groaning as if he was in pain. Dean and Y/N notice this instantly, knowing exactly what I meant. A nightmare. Shaking his shoulder to wake him up.

"Sam, wake up!" They yell, worried. His bloodshot eyes shoot open, jumping up his chest heaving. Taking a deep breath, he takes in his surroundings. "I take it I was having a nightmare" Sam says turning to them. "Yeah. Another one" Dean confirms, worried for his little brother. "Hey, at least I got some sleep" Sam tries to joke.

"You know, sooner or later, we're gonna have to talk about this" Y/N says to him, concerned for his well-being. Sam looks around and realizes they're already in Toledo, Ohio. "We're here?" He changes the subject. "Yeah. Welcome to Toledo, Ohio" Dean says and Y/N gives him the newspaper with the recently deceased, Steven Shoemaker, in the obituary.

"So, what do you guys think really happened to this guy?" Sam asks. "That's what we're gonna find out" Y/N says smiling. "Let's go" Dean says and they exit the Impala. Locking the door behind her, she still misses Quinn. Reminding herself to take her out for a spin whenever they're up in the midwest.

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Now in the morgue, posing as med students. They approach the morgue tech at the desk. "Hey" The tech greets them. "Hey" Dean greets back, a smile plastered on his face. "Can we help you?" The tech asks, leaning forward on the desk and propping himself up on his elbows. "Yeah, we're the med students" Y/N says sweetly and the tech's eyes scans Y/N frame quickly, checking her out. "Sorry?" The receptionist asks, confused.

"Oh, Dr. Feiklowicz didn't tell you?" Dean says, butchering the doctors name in the process and Y/N mentally facepalms herself. "Yeah, we talked to him on the phone. He- uh. We're from Ohio State. He's supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse. For our paper" Dean casually lies.

"Well I'm sorry, he's at lunch" The tech says to them. "Well, he said uh— Well, you know what, it doesn't matter. You don't mind showing us the body, do you?" Dean says charmingly. "Sorry, I can't" He denies them access. "Doc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him, if you want" He says.

"An hour? Ohhh. We gotta be heading back to Columbus by then" Dean says to Y/N and Sam and they nod agreeing. Y/N could already see where this is headed. So while sighing and rolling her eyes, she fixes her tank top that's layered over her leather jacket subtly, to show her cleavage a bit, enough to leave room for imagination.

"Look man, this papers like half our grade. So if you don't mind helping us out-" Dean tries to reason but the morgue tech cuts him off rudely. "Look man. No." He says rudely. Dean chuckles irritated turning to Sam and Y/N. "I'm gonna hit him in his face man. I swear-". Before he could finish Y/N decides to interject and turns her charm on.

Pushing Dean behind her she leans over the tech's desk, giving him a coy smile. "What my aggressive lab partner here is trying to explain. We are really passionate about all things Pathology" She says cutting Dean off. "I'm sure you of all people could understand. Assuming you're as smart as you are handsome" Y/N says flirtatiously, biting her lips, tilting her head.

Sam and Dean behind are stunned at this. Sam holding back a laugh and Dean's nostrils flare, feeling a burning in his chest. Reallyyy wanting to hit this guy now.

The morgue tech is a bit flustered at her posture, his eyes glancing from her slightly exposed chest to her eyes rapidly. Thinking she doesn't realize when he snuck a peek at her boobs. "Ma'am, I-I, I could get in a lot of t-". He stutters trying to explain himself. Taken back by her sudden captivating behavior, a clear blush on his face.

"Pleaseee" She cuts him off, her tone is alluring, putting her hand over his gently thats on his desk. "It would really mean a lot to me" She says suggestively, pouting her lips. He smirks, nodding. Winking at her he says, "Okay, follow me" He gets up and guides them to the morgue.

Y/N turns around to look at the boys with a triumphant smile. A look of impress is on Sam's face and a mixture of jealousy that's covered up with a smirk on Dean's face.

"Seriously?" Dean whispers, cocking his eyebrows at her as he rolls his tongue against his upper teeth, shaking his head. Meanwhile Sam laughs, giving her a high-five which she returns. "I just saved you at least a hundred bucks Winchester cuz I saw Sammy ready to pull out his wallet and bribe his way into that morgue using the poker money" She whispers back at Dean before turning on her heels walking behind the tech she just conned, swaying her hips a bit.

She turns around and shoots a wink in Deans direction causing his cheek to turn a tinge of pink, which he quickly masks. Dean looks at Sam like 'really?' and Sam just shrugs with his hand in his pocket, chuckling walking behind Y/N. Of course, Dean couldn't help but look at the way Y/N swayed her hips as she walks and it low-key drove him insane. Clearing his throat, disposing of his unholy thoughts, he follows behind them.

"Now, newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding" Sam asks the morgue tech. "More than that. They were practically liquefied" He says, lifting the blanket over the corpse. "Any sign of a struggle? Maybe somebody did it to him?" Dean asks. "Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone." He informs.

"What's the official cause of death?" Y/N asks nicely, crossing her arms over her chest and the techs eyes flicker up and down her. "Docs not sure. He's thinking massive stroke. Maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure" The tech says, smiling. "What do you mean?" She asks, tilting her head in confusion. Dean notices the way the tech is still staring at Y/N and his expression hardens.

"Intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen" The tech says as if it's the coolest thing ever. "And the eyes? What would cause something like that?" Sam asks and the techs gaze moves to him "Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims" The tech says shrugging. "Yeah, you ever see exploding eyeballs?" Dean asks ironically.

"Ah, that's a first for me. But hey, I'm not the doctor" He says, smirking over at Y/N who fakes a surprised look. "Hey, you think we could take a look at that police report. You know? For our paper.." Y/N asks sweetly, moving closer to the tech and batting her eyelashes. "I'm not really supposed to show you that" The tech says suggestively and they sigh. Sam goes to pull out his wallet she stops him.

"Does this change your mind?" She cocks her eyebrows, leaning over to his scrub pocket to take out a pen from his left shirt pocket and a old receipt in her pocket. His breath hitches in his chest when Y/N reaches into his shirt pocket, a seductive smile playing on her lips. She writes down a phone number and hands it to him smiling. He takes it without hesitation and gives them a copy of the police report.

"Did you really just give that douche your number?" Dean grumbles to Y/N as they walk down the stairs, headed back outside. She looks at him shocked, not expecting that reaction from him. "Hell no! I'm not an idiot, I gave him your number" She says snickering and Deans eyes practically bulged out of his eye sockets. "You WHAT!?" He whisper yells but is honestly relieved.

Knowing that this freak won't be calling Y/N and if he does call his phone, he can tear him a new one. "Oh relax. If you answer once and it's him. Just block him" She says shrugging and Dean looks her over. "What?" She asks innocently and he smirks. "You really are a nutcase" He says and she snorts. "Whatever asshat" she says, rolling her eyes.

Meanwhile Sam is laughing to himself, head down, hands in his pockets. They turn to him and ask him simultaneously, "What's the matter with you?" And he turns to them. "Nothing...you two just sound like an old married couple" He says laughing hysterically at the way Dean and Y/N's face morphed. "We should get that kid a brain scan" Y/N says to Dean loud enough for Sam to hear and they all laugh.

"Might not be one of ours. Might be some freak medical thing" Y/N said as they continue walk down the stairs. "How many times in our Dads long career has it actually been a freak medical thing...and not the sign of some supernatural death?" Dean asks them rhetorically but Sam answers sighing. "Uh, almost never"

"Exactly" Dean says. "Alright" Y/N and Sam say in unison. "Let's go talk to the daughter" Y/N says.

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Now at the Shoemakers residence, a wake is in progress. Grieving relatives scattered all over the place. Dressed in black and white. Looking down at her outfit, now feeling a bit self conscious. "I feel like we're underdressed" Y/N mutters to the boys who agree nodding. They walk into the house casually, going into the backyard and approach a group of teenage girls by the bench.

"You must be Donna, right?" Dean asks the young brunette girl, sitting with her blonde friends. "Hi, uh. We're really sorry" Y/N says apologetically to Donna. "Thank you" Donna responds sadly. "I'm Y/N, This is Sam and Dean. We worked with your dad" Y/N lies to keep their cover, introducing herself and then the boys.

Donna looks at her friend surprised and back at them. "You did?" She asks, giving a small smile. "Yeah. This whole thing...I mean a stroke.." Dean begins to say but Donna puts her head down. "I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now" Her blonde friend pipes up from next to her. "It's okay. I'm okay" Donna assures her friend and she looks back up at Dean.

"Were there ever any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?" He asks Donna curiously. "No" She shakes her head and the other little brunette girl who had been quite this whole time, turns around and says. "That's because it wasn't a stroke".

"Lily, don't say that" Donna says to Lily who Y/N assumes is her sister. "What?" Sam asks. "I'm sorry. She's just upset" Donna says, looking up at them and smiling. "No, it happened because of me" Lily insisted. "Sweetie it didn't." Donna tries to reassure her sister it wasn't her fault.

"Lily..why would you say something like that?" Y/N asks her gently, taking a stooping down in-front to her. "Right before he died. I said it" She says. "You said what sweetie?" Y/N's tone is comforting. "Bloody Mary. Three times in the bathroom mirror" Lily says and the boys eyebrows raise at this.

"She took his eyes. That's what she does" Lily says. "That's what why Dad died. This isn't your fault" Donna says and Lily turns to her sister frowning. "I think your sister's right, Lily." Dean says to her. "There's no way it could've been Bloody Mary. I mean your dad didn't say it. Did he?" Dean asks and they all look at her.

"No, I don't think so" Lily says unsure. And Dean nods at her.

The boys and Y/N are upstairs investigating the house, they make their way to the bathroom. The floor stained in blood. "The Bloody Mary Legend" Sam says opening the door. "Did dad ever find any evidence if that was a real thing?" He asks Dean. "Not that I know of" Dean says, going into the bathroom. "You? Did Mr. L/N ever come up with anything?" Sam turns to Y/N asking her and she shakes her head.

"It never came up" She says, stooping down with Sam, touching the bloodstained floor. "I mean, everywhere else..all over the country, kids play Bloody Mary..and as far as we know, nobody dies from it" Sam says, standing back up walking over to Dean. "Well maybe everywhere it's just a story, but here it's actually happening" Y/N says.

"The place where the legend began?" Sam asks and Dean shrugs, opening the mirror cabinet by the sink. "But according to the legend, the person who says—" He goes to say it but Dean faces the mirror at him, and he looks at it before closing it back harshly and Y/N snickers.

"The person who says you-know-what gets it. But here-" Sam starts. "Shoemaker gets it instead. Yeah" Dean finishes. "Right" Y/N says. "Never heard anything like that before" Dean says, raising his eyebrows. "Still the guy did die right in-front of the mirror. And the daughters right. The way the legend goes...you-know-who scratches your eyes out" Y/N says.

"It's worth checking in to" Sam says. Their ears perk up when they hear footsteps coming their way. Their heads turn to the door, approaching it to be greeted by Donnas friend who they never got the name of. "What are you doing up here?" She asks annoyed. "We— We had to go to the bathroom" Dean comes up with an excuse on the spot causing Sam and Y/N to look at him like 'dude what?!'.

"Who are you?" She asks them, suspiciously. "Like we said downstairs, we work with Donna's dad" Y/N says and she narrows her eyes at them. "He was a day trader or something. He worked by himself" She said and Dean stutters. "No. We know. We meant-" He tries to explain but Donnas friend cuts him off.

"And all those weird questions downstairs. What was that?" She asks, still suspicious but they can't come up with an answer. "So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming" She threatens. Dean shoots her a sassy look but they cave. "Alright, alright. We think something happened to Donnas dad" Sam says honestly.

"Yeah. A stroke" The girl says, matter of factly. "That's not the sign of a typical stroke" Y/N adds and the girl looks at her up and down. "We think it might be something else" She says, firmly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Like what?" The girl asks. "Honestly...we don't know yet" Sam says.

"But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth" He finishes. "So, if you're gonna scream. Go right ahead" Dean urges her and she looks down. "Who are you? Cops?" The girl asks. The boys and Y/N exchange a look. "Something like that" Dean smirks

"Tell you what. Here. You think of anything. You or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary, just give us a call" Sam reaches into his jacket pocket to take out a business card, handing it to the girl and they leave.

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Sometime later, the trio end up at the library to do some research. "Alright. Say Bloody Mary is really haunting this town. There's gonna be some sort of proof, right? A local woman who died nasty" Dean rambles as they walk through the library. "Yeah. But a legend this widespread, it's hard. I mean there's like 50 versions of who she actually is. One story says she's a witch, another says she's a mutilated bride. There's a lot more" Sam lists the possibilities.

"Alright. So what are we supposed to be looking for?" Dean asks. "Well every version's got a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary. And she always dies right in-front of a mirror. So we gotta search newspapers, public records, as far back as they go....see if we can find a Mary who fits the bill" Y/N explains.

"Well that sounds annoying" Dean scoffs. "No, it won't be so bad uh...as long as we-" Sam says causally and Y/N nudges him, pointing to the computers that has "OUT OF ORDER" signs on him. "Huh, I take it back. This will be very annoying" He says and they all sigh.

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Y/N and Dean are sitting at the desk in the motel room by the window, reading in their books, looking for any clue on Bloody Mary. Meanwhile Sam is asleep on the bed across from them. Right now he needs the rest and they know that. Y/N takes a drag from her cigarette and exhales it out the window. "You know, those things kill you" Dean teases her and she snorts.

"This job will kill me faster than these will" She flatly says not looking up from her book, waving it in her fingers. Dean shakes his head at her pessimistic view. "Besides" She takes one last drag, blowing the smoke out the corner of her lips.

Deans eyes study the curvature of her (description of your lips) lips, his tongue darting to moisten his own bottom lip. Trying to keep his gaping look subtle. "Everyone has a vice" She shrugs, crushing the bud in the ashtray next to her and Dean clears his throat and nods agreeing.

"No judgement, Princess. You're your own woman. I'm just pulling your leg" He says sweetly, nudging her leg with his under the table lightly. This makes her smile, Dean was never one to judge. Neither Sam. Which is why she was so comfortable around them. They're her family. "I know, charming" She winks at him and he smirks, biting his lip.

If Deans being honest with himself, he always found smoking sorta hot. Especially on Y/N. Of course, she's naturally a beautiful woman "You found anything interesting?" Her voice breaks him out of his thoughts. He sighs shaking his head.

"You?" He asks back. "If I have to read one more book, my head is gonna explode!" She slams her book down frustrated, sinking into her seat, the headache she was nursing is getting worse.

"If your nerd ass is complaining about reading, imagine how I feel" Dean huffs and Y/N clutches onto her forehead. "Reading isn't whats pissing me off, it's my head. It's killing me" She groans, the pressure from the headache building up in her head. This worries Dean, his eyebrows creasing.

"I've got some painkillers in my duffel. Here" He gets up to go for the pills in his bag but she stops him. "It's fine, probably just my period" She says, Deans mouth forming an "o" shape at this as she rubs her temples. He still goes and gets the pills. Handing it to her with a bottled water. "Here. Take it" He says gently. "Dean I'm-" He cuts her off.

"Y/N. Take it." Authority in his tone. She sighs, and opens her mouth sticking her tongue out for him to put it. He swallows, his eyebrows raising at this but he puts it lightly on her tongue and hands her the water. Y/N takes a big gulp and swallows the pill.

Sticking her tongue out and lifting it up for him to see jokingly. "I took it doc" She says and Dean chuckles patting her head. "Good girl" He says in a gruff tone, winking at her. The way he said that just awakened something in Y/N.

Her breath hitched in her throat slightly but she quickly recovered, not making it obvious it affected her. "You need anything? I can get you some pads, snacks.." He says concerned, his tone gentle again and she shakes her head cuz she's got some handy. It wouldn't be the first time he's gotten her pads because her period came.

She looks up at him and smile brightly, still holding her head. "You can be real sweet you know" She says and he chuckles sitting back down. "Shut it" He says jokingly, hiding his blush, his green eyes piercing in her (e/c) ones. Studying each others eyes like if they're cramming for a history final.

Sam starts shaking and groaning in his sleep, jumping awake instantly. Y/N and Dean's heads snap over to him, breaking their heated eye contact. Their gazes filled with concern. Sam's chest heaving like earlier, trying to catch his breath. "Why'd you guys let me fall asleep?" Sam asks, disappointed.

"Because I'm an awesome brother" Dean remarks sarcastically. "And I'm a phenomenal best friend" Y/N adds, her tone matching Dean's. Her headache easing a bit. Dean sighs, "So what'd you dream about?" He asks his little brother, already knowing the answer. "Lollipops and candy canes" Sam remarks dryly.

Y/N nods, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, sure". Sam looks over at them, "You guys find anything?" He asks. "Oh, besides a whole new level of frustration. No. We've look at everything" Y/N scoffs while Dean shakes his head and closes his book. Sam pushes himself up on his elbows as Dean explains.

"A few local women, a Laura and a Cathryn committed suicide in-front of a mirror. And a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave, but uh..." Dean says, rubbing the side of his mouth. "..no Mary" he finishes. And Sam plops back down on the bed sighing.

"Maybe we just haven't found it yet" He says. "We've also been searching for strange deaths in the area. You know, eyeball bleeding, that sort of thing. There's nothing" Y/N says frustrated. "Whatever's happening here, maybe it just ain't Mary" Dean suggests and Sam's phone starts to ring.

"Hello?" He answers and his face drops.

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They were now outside of Jill's house. Charlie, Donna's friend from the wake, sobbing because another one of her friend, Jill, was found dead the same was as Steven Shoemaker. Charlie sits on a bench below a tree, Dean sitting on the top of it, Y/N next to her and Sam standing in-front of them.

"And they found her on the bathroom floor....And her— her eyes. They were gone" Charlie sniffles as Y/N rubs her back gently, comforting her. "I'm sorry" Sam says sympathetically and Y/N nods frowning. "And she said it" Charlie gasps for air from crying, causing the three hunters to share a look.

"I heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that" She says doubtfully. "I'm insane right?" She asks them. "No you're not insane hun" Y/N says calmly. "God, that makes me feel so much worse" Charlie whimpers, looking at Y/N with bloodshot eyes. "Look." Sam starts. He looks at his brother and best friend before he begins explaining.

"We think somethings happening here. Something that can't be explained" Sam says gently. "And we're gonna stop it. But we could use your help." Dean adds

Charlie enters Jill's room, closing the door behind her. She immediately walks over to the open, unlocking it and opening it for Sam, Dean and Y/N who are waiting outside for her to do so. They get in one by one, Dean getting in last, resting his duffle bag on the floor and closing the window behind him. Y/N picks it up and starts unloading it with Sam.

"What did you tell Jill's mom?" Sam asks Charlie as he takes his stuff out of the bag. "I just said I needed some time with her pictures and things" She tells them. "I hate lying to her" Charlie adds, holding her forehead in her hand. "Trust us, it's for the greater good" Y/N assures her. "Hit the lights" Dean tells Charlie who does as she's told.

"What're you guys looking for?" She asks them. "We'll let you know as soon as we find it" Dean says as Sam puts on the video camera. "Hey, night vision" He says, Dean clicks the button to put on the camera that's still in Sam's hand.

"Thanks. Perfect" Sam says gratefully. He points to Dean and Y/N. Dean turns his back slightly, sticking out his butt with a sassy look on his face. "Do I look like Paris Hilton?" Dean says cockily, pumping his eyebrows and Y/N chuckles.

"Nah. More like Sonny and Cher" Sam says cheekily, panning the camera over to Y/N. Dean smirks while Y/N hides her blush with a glare, flipping Sam the bird who flashes her a cheeky smile. "Bitch please, I'm a Madonna" She says sassily, putting her hands on her hips.

Despite the daft situation, Charlie giggles at their interaction. Reminding her of how her own friend group once was. Sam chuckles at Y/N's lippy comeback, turning around he scans the room with the night vision. Opening the closet and scanning the mirror on the door.

"So I don't get it. I mean, the first victim didn't summon Mary and the second victim did. How is she choosing them?" Sam questions, stooping down to get the full length of the mirror in the camera. "Beats me" Y/N says while she and Dean check the room for frequencies with their EMF meters.

Sam closes the closet door behind him and walks into the bathroom to scan the mirror above the sink. "I wanna know why Jill said it in the first place" Dean asks Charlie a bit harsh.

"It was just a joke" She says timidly. "Well, somebody's gonna say it again. It's just a matter of time" He says brashly. "Down boy, don't be so harsh" Y/N warns Dean, firmly. His eyes flicker over to Y/N, nodding apologetically. Noticing the fearful look on Charlie's face.

"Hey" Sam calls for their attention. "There's a black light in the trunk right?" He asks.

After getting the black light, Dean closes the curtains, all light in the room diminishes. Sam takes the mirror that was hanging in the bathroom, resting it on the bed backside up. Dean tosses the black light to Y/N who catches it and Sam rips the back of the mirror that was covered in brown paper.

Y/N takes the black light and scans the now ripped mirror. The light reveals a handprint in the back, below is a name written. "Gary Bryman?" Charlie reads the name from the mirror, questionably. Sam turns to her, "You know who that is?" She shakes her head, "No" and the three share a look.

Dean and Charlie are outside now on the bench they were on earlier, Sam and Y/N walk up to them, taking a seat on the bench. "So, Gary Bryman was an 8 year old boy. Two years ago, he was killed in a hit and run. The car was described as a black Toyota Camry...but nobody got the plates or saw the driver" Sam explains the tragic storyZ

"Oh my god" Charlie gasps in disbelief and the three look over at her. "What?" Y/N asks. "Jill drove that car" She says, her voice shaky and the three sigh. "We need to get back to your friend Donna's house" Dean tells her.

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A little later, they're back at Donna's house. Scanning the mirror that Steven Shoemaker died infront of with the black light. Behind it is an identical handprint like there was on Jill's mirror only the name below was "Linda Shoemaker" Y/N reads off of the mirror.

"Why're are you asking me all this?" Donna asks and Y/N apologizes. "We're sorry but it's important" she says calmly. "Yeah, Linda's my mom, okay? And she overdosed on sleeping pills. It was an accident and that's it" Donna says frustrated. The group of Y/N, Sam, Dean and Charlie look concerned. "I think you should leave" Donna says irritated.

"Donna, just list-" Dean tries to plead her but she cuts him off screaming, "Just get out of my house!" Donna runs up the stairs. "Oh my god. Do you really think her dad could've killed her mom?" Charlie asks fearfully. "Maybe" Sam says. "I think I should stick around" She says and Sam nods.

"Alright. Well just whatever you do, don't-" Charlie cuts Dean off by saying, "Believe me, I won't say it" crossing her arms over her chest.

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Before they knew it, it's nightfall. They're back in the motel room. Dean in-front of his computer, Sam pacing the room and Y/N on her bed, eating a snack. "Wait wait wait, so you're doing a nationwide search?" Y/N cocks her eyebrows munching on potato chips.

"Yep. The NCIC, the FBI database. At this point, any Mary in the country who died in-front of a mirror is good enough for me" Dean says as he clicks through the database. "But if she's haunting the town, she should've died in the town" Sam says as he takes a seat next to Y/N on her bed.

"Im telling you, there's nothing local Sammy. We've checked. So unless you got a better idea, might as well do the search" Y/N says, offering him some of her chips which he takes. "The way Mary's choosing her victims, it seems like there's a pattern" Sam says as he now munches on the chips.

"I know, I was thinking the same thing" Dean says. "With Mr. Shoemaker and Jill's hit and run-" Y/N thinks out loud. "-both had secrets where people died" Dean finishes the thought out loud. "Right. I mean, there's folklore about mirrors. That they reveal all your lies, all your secrets. That they're a true reflection of your soul, which is why its back luck to break em" Sam explains.

"Right, right.....So maybes if you've got a secret, you know, like a really nasty one, where someone died, then Mary sees it... and punished you for it" Dean says. "Whether you're the one that summoned her or not" Sam adds.

"Jesus......that's some dark shit" Y/N says out of nowhere, crunching on her chips. Earning amused look from the boys. "Take a look at this" Dean says, slightly chuckling. Showing them the computer.

Not too long after, they printed out what Dean was showing them. It was crime scene photos of a murder. Bloody hand print on the mirror that was on the scene, below is a have written name "TRE" similar how Mary writes her victims names on the back of the mirrors. Everything was identical to Mary's MO.

"Looks like the same handprint" Y/N says as she looks over the picture and Sam nods agreeing. "Her name was Mary Worthington. An unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana." Dean explains to them.

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Fort Wayne, Indiana

"I was on the job for 35 years. Detective for most of that." Jackson tells them. The trio made their way over to Fort Wayne, the drive being only an hour and a half, to interrogate the responding officer on the scene of Mary Worthington's murder.

"Now, everybody packs it in with a few loose ends. But the Mary Worthington murder...that one still gets me" Jackson's tone is jittery. "What exactly happened sir?" Y/N asks nicely. "You kids said you were reporters?" Jackson asks suspiciously. "We know Mary was 19, lived by herself." Sam interjects, trying to digress the topic.

"We know she won a few local beauty contents. Dreamt of getting out of Indiana, being and actress. And we know the night of March 29th, someone broke into her apartment and murdered her. Cut out her eyes with a knife." Sam said and Jackson nods. "That's right" He says.

"See so when we ask you what happened, we wanna know what...you think happened" Dean says and Jackson looks between the three of them before going into his room and coming back out with a file. "Technically, I'm not supposed to have a copy of this" Jackson says as I rests it down on the desk in-front of them and begins flipping through it.

"Now...see that there? T-R-E?" He asks us, pointing to a picture of Mary's body at the crime scene, her bloody handprint on the mirror and "TRE" written below. "Yeah." Dean says, looking down at the picture as he leans on the desk. "I think Mary was trying to spell out the name of her killer" Jackson says, superstitiously. "You know who it was?" Sam inquires, sitting on the edge of the desk.

"Not for sure" Jackson sighs, pulling out a picture of a man in a tux and sunglasses. "But there was a local man, a surgeon. Trevor Samson. And I think he cut her up good" Jackson says. "Now, why would he do something like that?" Y/N asks, crossing her arms over her chest. "Her diary mentions a man she was seeing. She called him by his initial, T. Well, her last entry....she was gonna tell T's wife about their affair" Jackson explains.

"Yeah. But how do you know that it was this guy Samson who killed her?" Dean asks, pulling himself up from the desk. "It's hard to say" Jackson says honestly but thinks for a second, "But the way her eyes were cut out, it was almost professional" Jackson says and Y/N nods. "But you could never prove it" She says.

"No. No prints. No witnesses. He was meticulous" Jackson says shaking his head. "Is he still alive?" Dean asks. "Nope" JACKSON says sighing as he sits down. "If you ask me, Mary spent her last living moments trying to expose this guys secret. But she never could" He says sadly as the group watches him intently. "Where is she buried?" Sam asks. "She wasn't. She was cremated" Jackson tells them and something clicks in Y/N head.

"What about that mirror? It's not in some evidence lockup somewhere, is it?" She asks causally as she sticks her hands in her pockets "No. It was returned to Mary's family a long time ago" Jackson informs them, looking a little confused as a sighs while leaning back in his seat. Dean rolls his eyes in annoyance at this and looks over to Y/N and Sam. "You have the names of her family by any chance?" Sam asks.

________________________________

"Oh really?? Ahh, that's too bad Mr. Worthington. I would've paid a lot of money for that mirror. Okay. Well maybe next time. Alright, thanks" Sam says into the phone, disappointed. "So?" Y/N pipes up from the backseat, leaning forward in between the boys. They're driving back from Fort Wayne at the present moment.

"So that was Mary's brother. The mirror was in his family for years until he sold it. One week ago" Sam explains. Dean and Y/N look over at him. "To a store called Estate Antiques. A store in Toledo" He says, explains to them. "So wherever the mirror goes, Mary goes?" Dean asks. "Her spirit's definitely tied up with it somehow" Y/N mutters. "Isn't there an old superstition that says mirrors can capture spirits?" Dean asks, looking at her through the rear view mirror.

"Yeah there is, when someone would die in a house. People would cover up the mirrors so the ghost wouldn't get trapped" Y/N explains. "So Mary died in-front of a mirror and it draws in her spirit" Dean says. "Yeah but how could she move through, like, a hundred different mirrors?" Sam asks confused. "I don't know but if the mirrors a source, I say we find it and smash it" Y/N suggests and Dean nods in agreement. "Yeah I don't know. Maybe" Sam sighs and his cellphone rings.

"Hello" He flips the phone up answering it. "Charlie?" He says confused.

________________________________

Immediately they head over to pick Charlie after getting a phone call from her. Apparently Donna got mad in their school bathroom and said "you know what" three times to prove nothings gonna happen and now Mary is after Charlie. Currently, Sam and Dean covering up mirrors in their motel room while Charlie is cradling her head in her knees with Y/N trying to comfort her.

"Hey. Hey. It's okay" She says soothingly, rubbing her back. "You can open up your eyes hun. It's okay. They covered up the mirrors. Alright?" Her tone is gentle and nurturing. Charlie puts her head up from her lap wearily. "Now, listen. You're gonna stay right here on this bed. And you're not gonna look at glass or anything else that has a reflection, okay?" She calmly instructs her for her own safety.

"Now, as long as you do that, she cannot get you" She assures her. "But I can't keep that up forever" Charlie's voice is fearful and shaky. "I'm gonna die, aren't I?" She asks sadly and Sam face drops. "No. No. Not anytime soon" Sam says gently, reassuring her as he takes a seat next to Charlie on the bed. "Alright Charlie. We need to know what happened" Dean says to Charlie, taking a seat on the bed next to Y/N.

"We were in the bathroom. Donna said it" Charlie answers. Dean looks over at Y/N and she nods. "That's not what we're talking about hun" She says calmly, rubbing her back. Charlie looks up at them with tears in her eyes. "Something happened, didn't it? In your life. A secret. Where someone got hurt." Dean asks her and she looks down guiltily. Her tears falling down her cheeks.

The three share a look before Dean turns back to Charlie. "Can you tell us about it?" Dean asks gently. "I had this boyfriend" She begins to explain. "I loved him...but he kind of scared me too, you know? And one night...at his house...we got in this fight...and I broke up with him. And he got upset and said he needed me and he loved me. And he said 'Charlie, if you walk out that door right now. I'm gonna kill myself'. And you know what that said? I said 'Go ahead'. And I left." She ends her tearful confession sobbing and Y/N's heart drops.

"How could I say that? How could I leave him like that?" She sobs, looking at Y/N. "I just- I didn't believe him, you know? I should've" She stutters, looking over at Sam.

________________________________

"You know, her boyfriend killing himself, that's not really Charlie's fault" Dean says driving. They're now in the Impala headed to the store where Mary's mirror is currently residing. "You know as well as we do that spirits don't exactly see shades of gray, Dean. Charlie had a secret, someone died. That's good enough for Mary" Y/N says, leaning back in her seat to the back.

"I guess" Dean says shrugging. "You know, I've been thinking. It might not be enough to just smash that mirror" Sam says. "Why? What do you mean?" Dean inquires, looking over at his little brother. "Well, Mary's hard to pin down, right? I mean, she moves around from mirror to mirror. So who's to say that she's not gonna just keep hiding in them forever. So, maybe...we should try to pin her down. You know, summon her to her mirror and then smash it" Sam suggests.

"Well how do you know that's gonna work?" Y/N asks intrigued, leaning forward between Sam and Dean. "I don't. Not for sure" Sam says honestly. "Well, who's gonna summon her?" Dean asks. "I will" Sam says, this causes Y/N's head to snap over to Sam and Dean shakes his head, huffing in annoyance.

"She'll come after me" Sam says confidently. "Alright, you know what? That's it" Dean snaps, parking Baby and turning off her engine. Dean turns to Sam and starts. "This is about Jessica, isn't it?" Dean asks him, firmly. Sam keeps looking out the window, not answering.

"You think that's your dirty little secret? That you killed her somehow?" Y/N asks her best friend, trying to stay calm. "Sam, this has gotta stop, man. I mean, the nightmares and calling her name out in the middle of the night. It's gonna kill you" He barks and Y/N nods, a frown on her face.

"Now, listen to us. It wasn't your fault. If you wanna blame something, then blame the evil son-of-a-bitch that killed her. Or hell, why don't you take a swing at me and Dean, cuz we're the ones that dragged you away from her in the first place" Y/N retorts and Sam finally looks at them.

"I don't blame you guys" He says calmly and Dean nods. "Well you shouldn't blame yourself. Cuz there's nothing you could've done" Dean says. "I could've warned her" Sam says. "About what?!" Dean yells angrily. "Okay. Chill out!" Y/N comes to Sam's defense.

"Go easy on him man, take a breather and then talk" She says firmly and Dean angry gaze snaps to her stern one, instantly fading when he sees she's being serious. He calms down a bit nodding slightly taking a deep breath.

"You didn't know it was gonna happen. And besides, all of this isn't a secret. I mean, we know all about it. It's not gonna work with Mary anyway." Dean says after he calmed down a bit. "No you don't" Sam says with a grim look on his face. "We don't what?" Dean asks confused.

"You don't know all about it. I haven't told you guys everything" Sam says looking at them. "What're you talking about" Y/N asks worried "Well, it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?" Sam says with a bit of snark. Dean and Y/N eyebrows shoot up at this, they look at each other baffled before turning back to Sam. "No. I don't like it. It's not gonna happen. Forget it." Y/N says firmly.

"Y/n/n, that girl back there is going to die...unless we do something about it. And you know what? Who knows how many more people are gonna die after that? Now we're doing this." Sam says to her trying to reason with them. He looks at Dean, "You guys have got to let me this" He says, a determined look on his face. Dean and Y/N look at each other in elaboration and sigh.

________________________________

Presently, the three hunters are at the store where Mary's mirror is. Y/N is down on her knees, infront of the store. Trying to pick the lock for the gate. In record time, she successfully picks the lock and they walk in. The store is filled with mirrors, the three look around while shining there flashlights baffled.

"Well, that's just great" Dean says sarcastically. He digs into his pocket and takes out a picture of the mirror from the crime scene, showing it to Sam and Y/N. "Alright fellas, let's start looking" Y/N says and they begin walking around to look for the mirror. While walking around, they don't realize that they tripped up a security alert from breaking in, a red light flashes in the corner of the store.

"Maybe they've already sold it!" Dean suggests as he shouts from a distance. Sam turns a corner, shining his light on the exact mirror from the picture. "I don't think so" He says and Dean and Y/N approach him. Dean takes out the picture again to look it over. "That's it" He confirms. "You sure about this?" Y/N ask Sam concerned and he just hands her the flashlight. She takes it and the three walk up to the mirror.

Sam sighs deeply before saying, "Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary..." He stops, looking over at them. He holds up his crowbar, preparing to smash the mirror. "Bloody Mary" he says one last time. A car pulls up outside, it's light flashing through the windows. Dean and Y/N turn around, panic sets in and Dean says. "Let's go check that out, you stay here. Be careful" He warns them and Sam gives him a curt nod and they begin to walk off.

"Smash anything that moves" Dean says as they're going. They lower their bodies so nobody can see him from outside, they creeps their way to hide behind a cabinet, to see the bright lights of a car infront of the door. "Crap" Y/N mutters, "You should go back. I can deal with this" Dean tells her.

"Like hell. You go out there alone. You'll look like a criminal. Better chance with me, might underestimate us" She snaps back and he chuckles. They walk towards towards the gate and push it open. "Hold it!" A security guard yells at Dean and Y/N, two guards are there holding up a guns at them.

"Whoa, whoa whoa guys. False alarm, I tripped the system" Dean says chuckling, his hands in the air. "Who are you?" The guard asks his suspiciously. "I'm the boss's kid. This is my girlfriend" Dean lies causally, pointing to Y/N who's eyebrows shoot up. "You, Mr Yamashiro's kid?" The guard asks him.

Meanwhile Sam is waiting for Mary to show. He hears some tussling and turn to see what it was. When he turns back to the mirror, nothing is there. Sam sees Mary's spirit from the corner of his eye in the other mirror and smashes it. She flashes in another and he smashes it too.

He turns back to the main mirror, "Come on. Come into this one" He mutters but she doesn't show. What he does notice is his reflection moving in a way he's not. He sees himself smiling back at him with a sadistic smile, blood dripping from his eyes. Gasping and groaning from pain building up at the back of his eyes, feeling like his head is gonna explode.

The crowbar slips from his hands. "It's your fault. You killed her." His reflection in the mirror taunts him. His face twitches in pain while looking at the scene, holding his neck as blood runs does his eyes. "You killed Jessica." His reflection says gruffly.

Outside, still trying to convince the security that they're not criminals. "Like we just said sir, my boyfriend is adopted" Y/N says sweetly. "Yeah" The guard says not convinced. Dean looks back at the store, worried "You know, I just— we really don't have time for this right now" He says before he throws a right hook at the guards face when he least expected it.

Y/N elbows the other guard and knees him where the sun doesn't shine. Huffing as she nurses her fist, she snaps her gaze over to Dean who grimaces at the guard on the ground, clutching his pearls. "Oh man that's gotta hurt" He puts his fist to his mouth, biting it.

"Girlfriend? Really?" She cocks her eyebrow and he chuckles, his cheeks turning a twinge of pink. First thing that came to mind" He defends. "Yeah, sure" She says ironically, she interlocks her arm in his, "Come on, darling" She says sarcastically and Dean chuckles as walk back into the store.

While this is all going on. Sam's reflection continues to taunt him as he falls to the ground, bleeding from his eyes in pain. "You never told her the truth, who you really were. But it's more than that, isn't it? Those nightmares you've been having...of Jessica dying...screaming...burning. You had them for days before she died. Didn't you?!" His reflection harshly yells at him about his guilt and how it's his fault Jessica is dead.

Sam groans in pain, clutching his chest. Dean and Y/N enter the store again to see some mirrors smashes and Sam on the ground clutching his chest, bleeding from his eyes "You were so desperate to be normal, to believe they were just dreams. How could you ignore them like that? How could you leave her alone to die? You dreamt it would happen!" His reflection shouts at him.

Dean screams as he charges at the mirror, breaking it with his crowbar. Y/N ducks so the shards don't cut her and kneels next to her best friend who's still doubled over in pain, bleeding from his eyes. "Sammy? Sammy?" Her voice is laced with panicked concern. She grabs his face, checking to make sure she's okay. "Come on Sammy!" Dean kneels next to them, checking on his little brother. Worry etched on both their faces.

"It's Sam" Sam retorts back weakly to them. "God. You okay?" Dean holds his brother up. "Uh, yeah" He tells them and Dean looks back at the broken mirror. "Come on, come on" Y/N says as they pick Sam up, putting each of his arms around their shoulder. Sam groans in pain as they walk him out of the store.

Unbeknownst to them. Mary begins to crawl out of the mirror. They hear the broken glass behind them moving around, turning around to see Mary moving towards them. They all begin to bleed from their eyes, doubling over in pain. Dropping to their kneels as Mary walks towards them with a limp. Dean reaches over to grab a mirror, pointing it to Mary. She looks at her own reflection in it eerily.

"You killed them" Her voice is rugged, harsh, gruff. "All those people. You killed them" Her reflection says back to her, bleeding from her eyes. The reflection snarls at her, almost animalistic as she begins gasping in pain. Her spirit melts into the ground, causing the shards of glass to flatter all over the ground.

Dean then throws the mirror onto the ground, breaking it over the area she melted. The three groan in pain, trying to catch their breaths. "Hey guys?" Dean calls them. "Yeah" they say in unison. "That's gotta be like, what, 600 years of bad luck" Dean says jokingly and they all chuckle dryly.

________________________________

The next morning, they drive Charlie back to her house. Dean parks the Impala in-front of it, turning to Charlie and Y/N who are seated at the back. "So this is really over?" Charlie asks. "Yeah, it's over" Y/N smiles, assuring her. "Thank you" She says gratefully. Dean reaches over to shake her hand, which she accepts.

Charlie looks at Y/N with a blush on her face and exits the car. Y/N scoots to the end of the seat, leaning back. Through the window, Charlie says, "Hey, Y/N?". She turns to Charlie, a smile on her face. "Yeah?"

Charlie leans in and places a chaste kiss in Y/N's lips. Y/N is taken back but returns the kiss passionately. Deans eyebrows shoot up from this, a burning feeling of...jealousy? Starts to build up in his chest again but at the same time he's turnt on a bit? Conflicted to say the least.

Meanwhile Sam is agape, knowing Y/N is comfortable in her sexuality but he notices the look of conflict on Deans face. Chuckling at his brothers demise.

"Thank you to you especially" Charlie's says flirtatiously, biting her lips. "No worries hun" Y/N says back, returning the flirt. Charlie hands her a paper with her number on it before turning on her heels and walking towards her house.

Sam turns back to Y/N, who's still stunned by all this and nudges her shoulder. "You player!" He says jokingly while laughing hysterically and Y/N rolls her eyes scoffing. "Not gonna lie, did not see that one coming from Charlie" Dean snorts, putting the Impala in drive. "Me neither. I think my gaydar's off" Y/N jokes, looking at Dean with a twinge of guilt in the rearview mirror while fiddling with the paper in her hand

Dean still can't help the burning feeling he felt in his chest from seeing her kiss Charlie. Usually if he saw two other girls kiss he would've been definitely into it. With Y/N we was kinda into it? But mainly hated seeing it.

As they drive down the freeway, Dean turns to Sam. "Hey Sam?" He calls his attention. "Yeah?" Sam responds. "Now that this is all over...I want you to tell us what that secret was" He says. "Look. You're my brother, Dean. And Y/N. You're my best friend. And I'd die for the both of you in a heartbeat. But there are some things I need to keep to myself" He says to them, smiling a bit. They don't answer and Dean keeps driving.

Sam's eyes drift outside, where he sees what looks like Jessica's spirit on the sidewalk where they're passing. His face contorts to a look of shock, guilt, pain. When they pass by a post, she disappears and Sam looks down sadly. Dean and Y/N notice his shift in mood but prefer not to push him at this moment.

Authors Note:

I kid you not when I say, I took my sweet time writing this chapter because this episode scared the shittt out of me🤣

The first time I watched it, I couldn't sleep properly for daysss. So I hope whoever is reading, they enjoyed this chapter cuz if this one deleted accidentally, I would've just skipped over it honestly😭

I'm excited to do 'Skin' because it's one of my favorite episodes!!😆😆

Xoxo

[mepuppy]

Let It Ride - Supernatural rewrite

A.N.: I do not own the characters, nor the storylines. I'm simply adding a twist to the episodes. Please feel free to help me out with constructive criticism on the story or the writing. Sorry for the mistakes, not proofread and english is not my first language. Sorry for not posting yesterday, I had a little moving day because I'll be spending the next 3 months in another state for work. But here it is, I hope you like it!

1x01 1x02 1x03 1x04

Word Count: 7.1k

1x05 - Bloody Mary

“Sam, wake up.” Sam jolts awake and looks at his brother on the driver seat of the Impala looking at him concerned. Y/n is on his window with a hand still on his shoulder, from trying to wake him up. The large building in front of the parked car tells him they arrived in the hospital in Toledo, Ohio, where they found a possible next case.

“I take it I was having a nightmare.” Sam looks between the two older hunters.

Y/n nods “Yeah, another one.”

“Hey, at least I got some sleep.” He gives Dean a small smile.

“You know, sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this.” his brother replied sternly

“Are we here?” Sam tries to change the subject.

“Yup. Welcome to Toledo, Ohio.” Dean tells him and gets out of the car. Y/n gives Sam space to do the same. He grabs the newspaper with the obituary they circled earlier  from his pocket.

Shoemaker, Steven

The Shoemaker family is sad to announce the sudden death of their beloved husband and father Steven Shoemaker. Steven was 46. A short service will be held on Wednesday, [...] 31 at 2:00 p.m. at the Toledo [...] and cherish you [...] Your [...]

“So what do you think really happened to this guy?” Sam looks at the two in front of him.

“That's what we're gonna find out.” Dean says turning around and heading inside. “Let's go.”

The trio walks into room 144, marked Morgue. There's two desks. The empty one has a nameplate that says Dr. D. Fejklowicz and y/n tries to memorize the name. The table has the morgue technician. “Hey.” the man looks up at them.

“Hey.” Dean replies and smiles at him.

“Can I help you?” he asks when noone says anything.

“Yeah. We're the, uh… med students.” Dean replies after a quick glance at Sam and y/n.

“Sorry?” the technician asks, frowning.

“Oh, Doctor…” y/n tries to save but the name was complicated “...Figlavitch didn't tell you?” she tries knowing she got it wrong, but keeps going “We talked to him on the phone. He, uh, we're from Ohio State.” she smiles fondly at the man sitting down “He's supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse. It's for our paper.”

“Well, I'm sorry, he's at lunch.” the man tights his lip in a false smile and points with his thumb to the other desk.

“Oh well he said, uh...” she looks quickly at her best friends and back at him

“Oh, well, you know, it doesn't matter. You don't mind just showing us the body, do you?” Dean tries.

“Sorry, I can't.” he simply says and looks down at the magazine he is reading. “Doc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him if you want.”

“An hour? Ooh. We gotta be heading back to Columbus by then.” Dean looks at y/n with a concerned expression.

“Yeah.” she agrees.

“Uh, look, man, this paper's like half our grade, so if you don't mind helping us out…” Dean tries one more time looking back to the man.

“Uh, look, man...no.” the technician sits up, putting the magazine down, and stares at Dean.

Dean laughs a little, turning around and mumbles to Sam and y/n. “I'm gonna hit him in his face I swear.” 

Y/n puts her hand on Dean’s arm and pushes him out of the way a little. Sam steps in front of them and opens his wallet pulling out some twenties. He lays a few of them, at least five, down on the technician's desk. He picks up the money and gets up. “Follow me.”

 Dean grabs Sam when he tries to follow. “Dude, I earned that money.”

“You won it in a poker game.” y/n retorts and passes between the two following the morgue technician.

“Yeah.” he replies but Sam already followed her and Dean is alone. He goes after the rest of the group.

“Now the newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding.” Sam states when the man pulls back the sheet over Steven's face.

“More than that. They practically liquefied.” he tells Sam and the trio looks at the corpse’s face.

“Any sign of a struggle? Maybe somebody did it to him?” Dean asks, going to the side of  the table.

“Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone.” the man answers.

“What's the official cause of death?” y/n looks at him with curiosity.

“Ah, Doc's not sure. He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure.” the guy says as he motions to Steven’s head.

“What do you mean?” Sam looks back at the dead man.

“Intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen.”

“The eyes. What would cause something like that?” y/n asks him with her eyebrows knitted.

“Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims.” 

“Yeah? You ever see exploding eyeballs?” Dean looks at the man.

“That's a first for me, but hey, I'm not the doctor.” he laughs humorlessly.

“Hey, think we could take a look at that police report? You know for, uh… our paper.” Dean asks him.

“I'm not really supposed to show you that.” the guy looks back at Sam who  pulls out his wallet again looking annoyed.

The man takes them back and shuffles through his desk pulling one folder out and hands it to Sam. He opens it while the man sits back down and reopens his magazine. Dean and y/n go to each side of Sam and look at the papers with him.

After some time, they give the folder back to the technician and head out. “Might not be one of ours. Might just be some freak medical thing.” Sam says as they start climbing down the stairs.

“Yeah, but how many times in John’s long and varied career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?” y/n looks over her shoulder at him without stopping.

“Uh, almost never.” he replies.

“Exactly.” Dean agrees and they head out of the door going to the vehicles.

“All right, let's go talk to the daughter.” Sam says entering the Impala when Dean and y/n go to their respectives driving seats.

When they arrive at the house the funeral is still happening. There is a picture of Steven on the desk. The attendees are all men in black suits and women in black dresses, except the trio.

“Feel like we're underdressed.” Dean jokes when they walk in looking around. They keep going through the house towards the back. They ask a man about Donna and Lilly, Steven’s daughters, they are sitting with their friends.

“You must be Donna, right?” Dean asks when they get close enough. Dean and Sam get to the circle first and y/n see one of the friends eyeing the two hunters with interest, making the woman roll her eyes.

“Yeah.” The girl with the shorter hair says.

“Hi, uh… we're really sorry.” Y/n tells her making the 

“Thank you.” she replies.

“I'm Sam, this is Dean and that's y/n. We worked with your dad.” As Sam tells the girls look at each other and Donna looks back at Sam.

“You did?” she asks incredulously.

“Yeah. This whole thing. I mean, a stroke.” Dean cuts in quickly.

“I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now” one of their friends says.

“It's okay. I'm okay.” she replies looking at her friend and smile.

“Were there any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?” y/n questions the girl and she shakes her head.

“No.” the little girl by her side turns around facing them. 

“That's because it wasn't a stroke.” she states. The trio frowns.

“Lily, don't say that.” the older sister looks at her.

“What?” Sam asks.

“I'm sorry, she's just upset.” Donna tells them.

“No, it happened because of me.” the girl looks back at the hunters.

“Sweetie, it didn't.” her sister tries one more time. Y/n goes around the group and crouches in front of the girl.

“Lily. Why would you say something like that?” she asks worried.

“Right before he died, I said it.” the girl looks sadly at the hunter.

“You said what?” she questions looking in the girl’s eyes.

“Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror.” she says. Y/n pauses and looks at the boys “She took his eyes, that's what she does.” 

“That's not why Dad died. This isn't your fault.” her sister puts her hand in Lilly’s shoulder.

“I think your sister's right, Lily. There's no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he?” Dean goes close to her as well and stops behind y/n.

“No, I don't think so.” The girl looks up at him. Y/n gets up and turns around, realizing Dean is much closer than she expected.

“I’m sorry for your loss, again.” Sam says and turns to leave. Y/n and Dean stare at each other for a heartbeat and then follow him. Her heart is running a marathon, but she keeps her face straight as they enter the house and go up the stairs.

“The Bloody Mary legend… Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?” Sam pushes the bathroom door open. There is still some dried blood on the floor.

“Not that I know of.” Dean looks at y/n wondering if she remembers something, but she shakes her head denying it as well.

Sam stoops to the floor and touches the dried blood. “I mean, everywhere else all over the country, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it.” he looks up at the other two.

“Yeah, well, maybe everywhere it's just a story, but here it's actually happening.” Dean says looking around the bathroom. 

“The place where the legend began?” Sam wonders out loud and gets up. Dean shrugs and y/n opens the medicine cabinet. “But according to the legend, the person who says B…” he stops short when he notices the medicine cabinet mirror is now facing him, and closes it “The person who says you know what gets it. But here…”

“Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah.” y/n finishes for him.

“Right.”

“Never heard anything like that before. Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, you know who scratches your eyes out.” she eyes the mirror too.

“It's worth checking in to.” Sam says as they start going out of the bathroom.

“What are you doing up here?” One of Donna’s friends asks, stopping in front of them.

“We… we had to go to the bathroom.” Dean says and the other two look at him with slightly widened eyes in disbelief with the lie.

“Who are you?” the girl questions them.

“Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad.” Dean explains.

“He was a day trader or something. He worked by himself.” the girl retorts with both hands on her hips.

“No, I know, I meant…” he starts.

“And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that? So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming.” she looks at them, specifically to the two men, threatening..

“All right, all right. We think something happened to Donna's dad.” Sam raises his hands.

“Yeah, a stroke.” she adds.

“That's not a sign of a typical stroke. We think it might be something else.” y/n tells her.

“Like what?” 

“Honestly? We don't know yet. But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth.” Sam tells her.

“So, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead.” Dean tells her, narrowing his eyes a little.

“Who are you, cops?” she asks them. The look at each other.

“Something like that.” Dean tells her.

“I'll tell you what. Here.” Sam reaches into his pocket, pulls out a paper and pen, and starts writing down his cell number  “If you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary… just give us a call.” he hands her the paper as they walk down the hallway.

⬛️◼️◾️▪️◾️◼️⬛

“All right, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town. There's gonna be some sort of proof… Like a local woman who died nasty.” Dean says as they walk into a building.

“Yeah but a legend this widespread it's hard. I mean, there's like 50 versions of who she actually is. One story says she's a witch, another says she's a mutilated bride, there's a lot more.” y/n turns to enter the library.

“All right, so what are we supposed to be looking for?” Dean looks down at her.

“Every version has a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies right in front of a mirror. So we've gotta search for local newspapers… public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill.” she adds.

“Well that sounds annoying.” Dean looks back ahead.

“No it won't be so bad, as long as we…” Sam starts but he then sees the computers which all say ‘Out of Order’ on them and stops giving a light chuckle “I take it back. This will be very annoying.”

They check some files out and head back to the motel. At the motel, Dean went to check in and y/n hopped off the Harley grabbed her duffel, unbuckling it from the passenger seat, and went to Sam and the Impala. 

“202” Dean announced and motioned in the direction with his head. The two followed him. The room was simple, it only had two beds, no pull-out. So they would be sharing.

Growing up the way they did, sharing beds wasn’t something new. They would sleep in the same bed more often than not, as a matter of fact. They would alternate pairs (and sometimes, when John was away, one would have a bed for themselves). They even slept all three on the same bed when they were kids, but soon enough Dean was too big to share with other two, so they went back to pairs.

Dean entered first and dropped his papers on the table by the window. Y/n and Sam followed, each dropping a bag on one bed. “I’m going to grab some snacks, want anything?” Y/n asked the two brothers. 

“Mm-hmm” Dean answers but Sam only shakes his head. She leaves the room and follows the hallways until she finds a vending machine. Grabbing a turkey sandwich for Dean and cookies for herself she heads back to the room. They accommodate themselves, each on a different spot, and start reading different obituaries to try and find a Mary who was killed in front of a mirror.

“This is imp…” Dean starts but the woman shushes him.

She lowers the finger she had put in front of her lips. “Sam’s asleep.” She whispers. 

He looks past the bed she’s crossed legged on and spots a laying Sam with his eyes closed. “Good.” He whispers back.

“Yeah. How can he function so well with the amount of sleep he’s been getting is beyond me.” She turns back to look at Dean “18 years having a bad sleep routine and I’m still not used to it.” She rolls her eyes chuckling a little.

“At least you’re not too grumpy when you’re tired. Otherwise I would’ve murdered you and blamed on a werewolf.” He gives her an amused smile and she rolls her eyes, going back to read more obituaries.

After 20 minutes Sam jolts awake and looks around. The other two look at him “Why'd you let me fall asleep?” He asks passing his hands through his hair.

“‘Cause I'm an awesome brother. So what did you dream about?” He asks putting te file down.

“Lollipops and candy canes.” The youngest say sarcastically.

“Yeah, sure.” Y/n disapproves his scorn.

“Did you find anything?” He asks them

“Oh besides a whole new level of frustration?” Dean starts and Sam sits back up on his bed “No. we’ve looked at everything.”

“A few local women, a Laura and a Catherine committed suicide in front of a mirror, and a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave, but uh, no Mary.” Y/n says as she reads through the files on the side.

“Maybe we just haven't found it yet.” Sam falls back into the bed

“I've also been searching for strange deaths in the area, you know...eyeball bleeding, that sort of thing. There's nothing. Whatever's happening here, maybe it just ain't Mary.” Dean says looking over all the papers spread through the bed and table.

Sam’s phone rings and he answers it. “Hello?” He says and a concerned look crosses his face before he speaks again “okay, try to calm down we’re coming to you. Stay there!” He hangs up and looks up to Dean and y/n “It was Charlie, Donna’s friend. She’s at the park waiting for us. Their other friend is dead.” He explains getting up and the the other two already started putting their shoes back on to leave.

⬛️◼️◾️▪️◾️◼️⬛️

Already at the park Charlie is telling them about the phone call she had with Jill, the friend who died, right before her death “And they found her on the bathroom floor. And her… her eyes. They were gone.” She chokes.

“I'm sorry.” Sam says sitting by her side.

“And she said it.” Sam looks up at the two “I heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?” She looks between the three hunters.

“No, you're not insane.” Y/n reassures her

“Oh God, that makes me feel so much worse.” The girls looks back down.

“Look. We think something's happening here. Something that can't be explained.” Sam starts trying to catch her attention back.

“And we're gonna stop it but we could use your help.” Dean tells her.

“Do you think you can get us to Jill’s bedroom?” Y/n asked hopeful.

“I think so. Can you guys get to a second floor window?” She looks at the woman.

“We’ll manage.” Dean reassures her.

The three hunters climbed to the roof from a tree and are waiting Charlie by the window she pointed at Jill's. She comes in from the bedroom door and locks it. Going over to the window and opening it. Sam enters first and Dean throws him a duffel bag, giving space for y/n to enter and following right after. Sam sets it on the bed and starts going through it.

“What did you tell Jill's mom?” Sam asks as he ruffles through the bag.

“Just that I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things.” She answers as Sam pulls something out of the bag and Dean shuts the curtains. “I hate lying to her.”

“Trust us, this is for the greater good.” Y/n tells her and Dean goes to the interruptor and turns the lights off.

“What are you guys looking for?”

“We'll let you know as soon as we find it.” Dean answers her at the same time Sam stretched a digital camera to y/n.

“Hey, night vision.” He says and she turns the thing on for him and he hands her the camera.

She grabs the digital camera and it is aimed at Dean. He looks up and sees the camera. “Do I look like Paris Hilton?” Dean asks, turning a little and looking over his shoulder. She snorts and walks away slowly with the camera. She opens Jill’s closet door and begins filming around the mirror.

“So I don't get it. I mean… the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?” Sam turns to Dean and Charlie.

“Beats me.” Dean answers when y/n closes the closet door. “I want to know why Jill said it in the first place.” He turns to Charlie.

“It's just a joke.” Charlie looks up at him.

“Yeah well somebody's gonna say it again, it's just a matter of time.” He says again and looks over at y/n who is in the bathroom filming around the mirror when she stops and sees trickles of something running out from behind the mirror.

“Hey.” She says and Sam and Charlie also turn to look at her “There's a black light in the trunk, right?”

She takes the mirror off the wall and carries it out to Jill's bed and lays it on the bed upside down. Dean comes over with a black light. Y/n peels off the brown paper that is on the back of the mirror. And Dean shines the black light over the back of the mirror and they see a handprint, and the words ‘Gary Bryman’.

“Gary Bryman?” Charlie asks the trio, making all heads snap at her.

“You know who that is?” Sam asks

“No.” She shakes her head.

“Okay. Let’s get out of here.” Y/n says taking the mirror again and putting it back in its place. Sam turned the light back on and Dean puts the camera and the light away on the duffel. They head to the window and get out again. Charlie closes it behind them and goes to the door. They walk slowly to the tree. Sam goes back first. Dean gives him the duffel and climbs down and then turns to help y/n down. “Oh. Thank you” she says smiling when she notices what he’s trying to do.

They go back to the bench. Dean and Charlie are sitting on it, y/n is standing up in front of them and Sam comes up behind her.

“So, Gary Bryman was an 8-year-old boy.” Y/n turns around startled with a hand on her chest “Sorry.” He smiles “Two years ago he was killed in a hit and run. The car was described as a black Toyota Camry. But nobody got the plates or saw the driver.”

“Oh my God.” Charlie half whispers.

“What?” Sam asked at the same time y/n did:

“Did Jill drive one of those?”

“Yeah.” She looks to the woman.

“We need to get back to your friend Donna’s house.” Dean looks at Charlie.

⬛️◼️◾️▪️◾️◼️⬛️

“Linda Shoemaker.” Sam says as he turns the light off and stands up, putting the mirror back on the wall. 

“Let’s go talk to Donna.” Dean states and leaves the bathroom.

They all follow him downstairs where they found Donna in the kitchen.

“Hey, we need to ask you a couple of questions. Is that alright?” Y/n asks from behind Dean.

“I guess, sure.” She shrugs.

“Is Linda Shoemaker your mother?” The woman questions Donna

“Uhm, yeah. Why” she answers frowning.

“She died right? How was her relationship with your father?” Did they get in fights a lot?” Dean looks at her. 

“Why are you asking me this?” She inquiries.

“Look, we're sorry, but it's important.” Sam tells her

“Yeah. Linda's my mom okay? She overdosed on sleeping pills, it was an accident, and that's it. I think you should leave.” She looks distressed.

“Now Donna, just listen.” Dean starts, trying to talk to her.

“Get out of my house!” She runs upstairs.

“Oh my God. Do you really think her dad could've killed her mom?” Charlie asks the three hunters with a concerned expression.

“Maybe.” Sam replies.

“I think I should stick around.” She tells them

“All right. Whatever you do, don't…” but Charlie cuts Dean off before he can finish.

“Believe me, I won't say it.” She gives them a tight half smile and turns around to go after Donna. The three hunters leave the house. 

⬛️◼️◾️▪️◾️◼️⬛️

Dean’s sitting in front of a computer with Sam and y/n behind him. “Wait, wait, wait, you're doing a nationwide search?” Sam asks him when he sees what Dean is typing.

“Yep. The NCIC, the FBI database… at this point any Mary who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me.” Dean answers as he scrolls.

“But if she's haunting the town, she should have died in the town.” He arguments looking between the back of Dean’s head and the screen.

“I'm telling you there's nothing local, we’ve checked. So unless you got a better idea…” he replies to his brother looking STV the screen.

“The way Mary's choosing her victims, it seems like there's a pattern.” Y/n tells them, standing behind Dean with her hands on his chair.

“I know, I was thinking the same thing.” Dean glances over his shoulder quickly.

“With mister Shoemaker and Jill's hit and run.” Sam thinks it over.

Y/n looks at Sam “Both had secrets where people died.”

“Right. I mean there's a lot of folklore about mirrors… that they reveal all your lies, all your secrets, that they're a true reflection of your soul, which is why it's bad luck to break them.” Sam keeps going.

“Right, right. So maybe if you've got a secret, I mean like a really nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it, and punishes you for it.” Y/n tilts her head raising her eyebrows.

“Whether you're the one that summoned her or not.” Sam finishes.

Dean calls their attention to the screen “Take a look at this.”  He points to a picture of a woman lying by a mirror in a puddle of blood. He prints out another picture and hands it to y/n over his shoulder it is of a handprint and the letters ‘Tre’.

“Looks like the same handprint.” Y/n says looking at the picture.

“Her name was Mary Worthington… an unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana.” Dean skimmed through the article.

The trio of hunters decided to go to Fort Wayne and try to talk to the detective that worked on Mary’s case. After an hour and 30 minutes with Dean on the wheel, they arrived at the city. 

 After some research they went to the detective’s house to talk to him.

“I was on the job for 35 years… detective for most of that. Now everybody packs it in with a few loose ends, but the Mary Worthington murder…” he pauses and looks at Dean, who’s in front of him “that one still gets me.”

“What exactly happened?” The oldest hunter asks.

“You kids said you were reporters?” He asks, looking up and down at the three, one at a time.

“We know Mary was 19, lived by herself. We know she won a few local beauty contests, dreamt of getting out of Indiana, being an actress.” Y/n starts by leaving the bookcase behind and joining Dean.

“And we know the night of March 29th someone broke into her apartment and murdered her, cut out her eyes with a knife.” Sam continued.

“That's right.” the detective answered.

“See sir, when we asked you what happened, we wanted to know what you think happened.” Y/n explained to him and the older man went to a file cabinet and pulled some files from it.

“Technically I'm not supposed to have a copy of this.” He opens a file to the picture Sam and Dean found on the computer. “Now see that there? T-R-E?”

“Yeah.” Dean agrees.

“I think Mary was trying to spell out the name of her killer.” He tells them.

“You know who it was?” Sam asks him getting closer.

“Not for sure. But there was a local man, a surgeon… Trevor Sampson.” He pulls out a picture of a man and hands it to the hunters. “And I think he cut her up good.”

“Now why would he do something like that?” Sam questions.

“Her diary mentioned a man that she was seeing. She called him by his initial, ‘T’. Well, her last entry, she was gonna tell ‘T’’s wife about their affair.” He tells them looking up form the papers on the table.

“Yeah but how do you know it was Sampson who killed her?” Dean looks from the mirror picture to the detective.

“It's hard to say, but the way her eyes were cut out… it was almost professional.”

“But you could never prove it?” Y/n half guesses.

“No. No prints, no witnesses. He was meticulous.” The man explains and drops his eyes.

“Is he still alive?” Dean drops the picture on the table.

“Nope.” He sits down and sighs “If you ask me, Mary spent her last living moments trying to expose this guy's secret. But she never could.” He looks up at the hunters who are side by side.

“Where's she buried?” Sam asks.

“She wasn't. She was cremated.” He frowns a little.

“What about that mirror” y/n nods at the one in the picture “It's not in some evidence lockup somewhere is it?” 

“Ah, no. It was returned to Mary's family a long time ago.” 

“You have the names of her family by any chance?” Dean wonders. The detective pauses for a while and then started looking through the papers on the file handing them one.

They are heading back, after a while with the detective, and y/n is on her cell while Dean is driving and Sam is on the backseat, close to her phone “Oh really? Ah that's too bad Mr. Worthington. I would have paid a lot for that mirror. Okay, well maybe next time. All right, thanks.” She finishes and hangs up.

“So?” Dean asks glancing at her.

“So that was Mary's brother. The mirror was in the family for years, until he sold it one week ago to a store called Estate Antiques. A store in Toledo.” She looks at him

“So wherever the mirror goes, that's where Mary goes?” He question again.

“Her spirit's definitely tied up with it somehow.” Sam leans back.

“Isn't there an old superstition that says mirrors can capture spirits?” She looks over her shoulder.

“Yeah there is. Yeah, when someone would die in a house people would cover up the mirrors so the ghost wouldn't get trapped.” He answers her.

“So Mary dies in front of a mirror, and it draws in her spirit.” Dean complements.

“Yeah but how could she move through like a hundred different mirrors?” Sam wonders looking at his brother through the rear view mirror.

“I don't know, but if the mirror is the source, I say we find it and smash it.” He replies

“Yeah, I don't know, maybe.” Y/n looks over to the front.

Sam’s cell starts to rings. “Hello.” The look of concern comes across his face “Charlie?” He pauses “Okay don’t look at anything that has a reflection and go to 5335 Heatherdowns Blvd and wait for us. We’ll be right there.” He hangs up and looks at Dean “It was Charlie, apparently Donna called bloody Mary on the school restroom and now Charlie is seeing her.”

“Why are adolescents so stupid?” Dea rolls his eyes and starts going faster.

Arriving at  the hotel they find Charlie sitting in front of their door with her hands around her knees and face deep on them. The get to her and Sam helps her get up guiding her to his bed,where she sits and Dean and y/n start covering every window and mirror on the room. After  covering, what they think is everything they look at each other and around, both spotting their reflections on the TV at the same time. Dean gabs anoter sheet and hands the woman one ennd and they cover the TV.

Sam, then, sitsnext to Charlie and says “Hey, hey it's ok. Hey, you can open up your eyes Charlie. It's okay, all right?” the girl lifts her head from her knees slowly “Now listen. You're gonna stay right here on this bed, and you're not gonna look at glass, or anything else that has a reflection, okay? And as long as you do that, she cannot get you.”

“But I can't keep that up forever. I'm gonna die, aren't I?” shhe looks at Sam, her eyes filled with tears.

“No. No. Not anytime soon.” y/n tells her while putting a hand on her shouder while sitting on the end of the bed by thhe one Charlie is.

Dean sits next to y/n and looks at Charlie “All right Charlie. We need to know what happened.” 

“We were in the bathroom. Donna said it.” The girl starts but y/n cuts her off.

“That's not what we're talking about. Something happened, didn't it? In your life… a secret… where someone got hurt. Can you tell us about it?” she asks drpping her hand back to her own lap.

“I had this boyfriend. I loved him. But he kind of scared me too, you know? And one night, at his house, we got in this fight. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me, and he said ‘Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself.’ And you know what I said? I said ‘Go ahead.’ And I left. How could I say that? How could I leave him like that? I just… I didn't believe him, you know? I should have.” She puts her face back on her knees and starts crying again.

The three  hunters look at each other and then back to the girl.

⬛️◼️◾️▪️◾️◼️⬛️

Dean is driving the Impala, with Sam in shotgun and y/n on the backseat. “You know her boyfriend killing himself, that's not really Charlie's fault.” he says looking at the road.

“You know as well as I do spirits don't exactly see shades of gray, Dean. Charlie had a secret, someone died, that's good enough for Mary.” Sam looks at his brother.

“I guess.”

“You know, I've been thinking. It might not be enough to just smash that mirror.” Sam continues.

“Why, what do you mean?” he asks quickly at the youngest.

“Well Mary's hard to pin down, right? I mean she moves around from mirror to mirror so who's to say that she's not just gonna keep hiding in them forever? So maybe we should try to pin her down, you know, summon her to her mirror and then smash it.” he tells them.

“Well how do you know that's going to work?” y/n questions.

“I don't, not for sure.” 

“Well who's gonna summon her?” Dean wonders as soon asSam finishes.

“I will. She'll come after me.” Sam looks bac to the road.

“You know what, that's it.” Dean says and pulls the car over. “This is about Jessica, isn't it? You think that's your dirty little secret that you killed her somehow?” he turns his body to half face his brother.

“Sam, this has got to stop.” y/n looks at him concernedd coming closer. “I mean, the nightmares and calling her name out in the middle of the night.. it's gonna kill you. Now listen to me… It wasn't your fault.” she puts a hand on his shoulder to make her look at him but he doesn't.

“Exactly. If you wanna blame something, then blame the thing that killed her. Or hell, why don't you take a swing at me? I mean I'm the one that dragged you away from her in the first place.” Dean tells looking up and shaking his head.

“I don't blame you.” he then looks at his brother.

“Well you shouldn't blame yourself, because there's nothing you could've done.” y/n tells him.

“I could've warned her.” he looks back at her.

“About what? You didn't know what was gonna happen! And besides, all of this isn't a secret, I mean I know all about it. It's not gonna work with Mary anyway.” Dean says, but as he starts to turn back to the wheel Sam speaks.

“No you don't.” 

“I don't what?” Dean and y/n frown.

“You don't know all about it. I haven't told you everything.” Sam looks at his hands.

“What are you talking about?” the woman with an anxious voice.

“Well it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?” Sam half smiles looking at them without turning his face.

The two expressions shift to surprise. “No. I don't like it. It's not gonna happen, forget it.” Dean tells and finally turns back to the steering wheel.

“Dean, that girl back there is going to die unless we do something about it. And you know what? Who knows how many more people are gonna die after that? Now we're doing this. You've got to let me do this.” he looks  at his brother, determined and shoots a glance to y/n on the backseat to make sure she doesn't try to argue too.

Dean huffs and starts driving again, mumbling complaints every now and then. Y/n spends the rest of the way looking at Sam with her eyebrows together, trying to come up with a plan where his life won't be at risk. The youngest hunter ignores them. When they arrive at the shop no one has  a better idea, so the plan remains the same. They get out of the car and grab a couple of crowbars, going to the entrance, where Sam gets down to pick the lock. 

Once Sam succeeds they enter and start looking around. At the back of the store they see many mirrors. “Well...that's just great.” Dean moans  as he pulls out the picture of Mary's dead body to look at the mirror “All right let's start looking.” he shows the other two the picture, holding a lantern over it so they can see it better. They split up and walk around the store “Maybe they've already sold it.” as Dean is finishing his sentence y/n's flashlight tops on the mirror.

“I don't think so.” she says and calls them over. Deann walks over to her and pulls out the picture again to compare. 

“That's it.” he sighs and looks at Sam “You sure about this?” Sam hands Dean his flashlight.

He sighs “Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary.” he looks at the other two who give him an unsure look back. Sam picks up the crowbar and holds it over his shoulder “Bloody Mary.”

Dean turns to see a light coming through the store windows and nudges y/n. “We'll go check that out. Stay here, be careful.” she instructs Sam who rearranges his shoulders and readies the crowbar again.

“Smash anything that moves.”  Dean and y/n go silently towards the front door. They see a headlight “Crap.” He puts the crowbar down and they begin to walk to the door.

The two leave the store together to talk to the police. “Hold it.” one officer says and they stop.

“Whoa guys, false alarm, I tripped the system.” Dean chuckles lightly but the police men remain unimpressed.

“Who are you?” another officer asks.

“I'm the boss's kid.” he smiles politely.

“You're Mister Yamashiro's kid?” the first cop questions. 

“I was  adopted.”Dean answers without hesitation, as he has been saying this his entire life. 

“And who are you?” one of them looks at y/n and shifts the gun a little.

“I'm his fiancé.” She smiles lovingly and holds Dean's hand.

“What do you guys need here?” the cop questions.

“My father asked me to grab some stuff for him.” Dean tells him.

“Can I see some ID?” the officer said and Dean grabs his wallet on the back pocket, handing the man his id.

“You're not Yamashiro.” the man raises an eyebrow.

“Like I said, I was adopted.” He lifts his hand asking for the id back.

“Yeah.” one officer says as another walks around to be on the two hunter’s back.

“You know, we just… I really don't have time for this right now.” Dean punches the cop in front of them and y/n turns and kicks the other on the stomach. They are now on the ground.

The two hunters  run back inside and as they getting closer they seeSam on the floor looking at the mirror. Dean grabbed the crowbar on the way in and goes through the mirror  as y/n goes to Sam.”Sam, Sammy!”

“It's Sam.” Sam tells her as Dean squats down by her side to look at him.

“God, are you okay?” “God, are you okay?” Dean asks and puts one arm on y/n back to steady himself as he cleans one side of the blood that came out of his eyes.

“Uh, yeah.” he answers, starting to get up.

“Come on, come on.” Dean and y/n pull Sam up. They begin to walk out, supporting Sam, until they hear some glass noise. They turn around to see Mary coming ou of the frame and crawling over the broken glass. Mary walks towards them and they fall to the ground. They all start bleeding from the face, but Dean reaches up and pulls over a mirror so that Mary is forced to see her own reflection. Mary starts choking to death and melts into a pile of blood. Dean throws down the mirror he held and it shatters.

“Hey Sam?” y/n calls him relaxing on the floor.

“Yeah?” he turns his head to look at her.

“This has got to be like… what? 600 years of bad luck?” she asks, looking at the ceiling and Sam chuckles weakly.

They went back to the motel and explained to Charlie she is safe, and Mary's gone. They grabbed all their stuff and Dean and Sam drove Charlie back to her house, with y/n following the car with her Harley. Arriving there Charlie gets out of the car and y/n opens  her helmet visor. “Charlie?” the girl turns around looking at thee hunter “Your boyfriend's death… it really wasn’t your fault. You should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn't have stopped it.” Charlie smiles faintly, then turns around to go into the house.

The bike pulls up to the driver's window, that is rolled down. Dean looks at her “That's good advice.”she smiles at him and he turns and lightly hits Sam “Hey SAM?”

“Yeah?”

“Now that this is all over, I want you to tell me what that secret is.” as Dean says it the woman on the bike lowers her head a little to look at the man too.

“Look… you're my brother and my best friend and I'd die for you, but there are some things I need to keep to myself.” Sam looks out the window and the other two look at each other, with concern in their eyes, and then back at the road. Dean drives off and y/n follows.

Taglist: let me knowif you want to be added or removed.

@stillhere197

@lmhf1

@un-expectedly

[f1rewalk3r]

I want to listen to some "car seat headrest" to better understand you and henghost. What do you recommend

well first and foremost i would recommend not doing that. if you’re dead set then i must give you the caveat that much of the CSH discography is about 1) going through a homoerotic breakup 2) being a desperate drunk degenerate college student 3) leaving town or 4) all over the above. if none of these apply to you then you may find that CSH doesn’t quite “click.”

Car Seat Headrest is the internet’s indie darling, started in 2010 by Will Toldeo. It was not his first project, but was his most successful. He released 12 projects on bandcamp (including the now delisted “numbered albums” and their outtakes) before being signed to Matador Records in 2015, releasing 4 albums under their label.

Stylistically, CSH can be a bit all over the place. Although they will always fall under the indie umbrella, they’ve gone from experimental lofi “shitgaze” (shitty shoegaze) to experimental electronic tracks, to 90s inspired garage rock to full on electronica pop. They have a little something for everything!

With that said, there are two available routes for you. the first is to start with one of the most popular albums, then work your way backwards in the discography. Alternatively, you can start at the very beginning, experiencing the growth of the lyricism and production quality.

Of the two, I’d recommend the former option, meaning you should start with Teens of Denial (2016), an album about growing up, being a sad addict, and not knowing your place in the world. your other option is to start with the ultra famous Twin Fantasy (Face to Face) (2018). Often considered Will Toledo’s magnum opus, this album is about being gay, falling in love, being a little too fond of drugs, and ultimately ruining things in your relationship due to your inability to see yourself as human/stop idolizing your partner. I am not responsible for any damage listening to this album may do to your relationship. (this warning comes from anecdotal experience)

Whichever album of these two you pick first, your next step on the listening journey should be the other option. My immediate next pick would be to jump all the way back to Twin Fantasy (Mirror to Mirror ) (2011), the original, shittier(?), lofi version of TF. Do not let its production quality deceive you- this album is just as good as its modern remaster.

You could then go to the Living While Starving EP (2013), as MtM has introduced you to the more lofi sound that is iconic to much of the CSH discography. This EP features some classics like “It’s Only Sex” and “Reuse the Cels.”

From there, you should go to the fandom’s favorite album, How to Leave Town (2014). I don’t think words can describe this album properly. It’s like listening to the audio version of a panic attack. It’s indescribably good.

And if you get that far into the discography, well. I’m afraid it’s too late for you then.

I hope this serves as an insightful entry guide into Car Seat Headrest! Show henghost and maybe he can back up my claims/recommendations. Oh, and if you smoke weed at all, I’d highly recommend choosing to smoke while listening to Twin Fantasy. It truly makes the experience, especially if you smoke too much and spiral out of existence during the track “High to Death.”

[anarchywoofwoof]

sigh. i'm going to regret looking into this, aren't i?

TOLEDO, Ohio (AP) — Five companies have agreed to pay the federal government more than $7.2 million overall to resolve claims stemming from longstanding pollution in two adjacent creeks in the Maumee River watershed in northwestern Ohio. The settlement with Ohio Refining Co., Chevron USA, Energy Transfer LLC, Pilkington North America and Chemtrade Logistics was announced Monday by the U.S. Department of Justice. Officials said a federal judge must approve the deal before it takes effect. According to a complaint, the companies are liable for historic industrial discharges of oil or hazardous substances at the Duck & Otter Creeks site near Toledo. The site is just east of the Maumee River and encompasses the creeks, adjoining wetlands, floodplain areas and uplands. The two creeks flow into Maumee Bay in Lake Erie and provide key habitats for migratory birds and fish, and also support hunting and fishing activities for local residents, according to federal wildlife officials.

so before i do anything else, let me establish: when the AP says "near Toledo" they mean basically right in the middle of Toledo, Ohio (pop. 268,000~)

anyway, the AP article doesn't really elaborate on this, but we're talking pollution involving oil and discharge of cancer-causing polycyclic hydrocarbons (PAHs), arsenic and lead. cancer rates in this part of Ohio are relatively high, especially in neighboring Ottawa County. as a whole, cancer rates in Ohio have been on a steady incline over the last 2 decades.

back to the price being paid by these five companies highlighted above in red. that's really what i wanted to focus on here, because as we know, fines aren't actual enforcement of the law or justice. it is a cost of doing business for most companies.

so what is the true cost and how much are these energy companies gonna feel the impact to their bottom line?

Ohio Refining Co took some digging to find. according to this EPA documentation, it turns out that the parent company for Ohio Refining Co is - surprise! - BP-Husky Refining LLC. yes, that BP! in case you needed the reminder, they made $80.431 billion over the last 12 months.

we all know about Chevron. i mean fuck, they have an entire "Criticism of Chevron" wikipedia page dedicated to their bullshit. so i'll just throw out the numbers for this soul sucking corporation: $36.5 billion in profit for 2022.

next up we have Energy Transfer LLC. wait a second.... where do i know that name? oh yeah.

and they take home about $78.555 billion in revenue annually.

as it turns out, Pilkington North America is actually a subsidiary of a Japanese company - Nippon Sheet Glass. if my math is right, their annual revenue is around $5 billion USD.

lastly we have Chemtrade Logistics - a relative small fry - who boasts an annual revenue of $1.88 billion.

in case you weren't keeping up at home, these five companies have a combined annual revenue of $202 billion. their fine is $7.2 million.

with an annual revenue of $202 billion, that would mean that these five companies are making an average of $553 million every single day. this isn't even a drop in the bucket. this is barely 1% of one day's earnings for these companies. and at what cost to human health and safety?

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and The Witch: Dean Winchester x Fem! reader

Description: A small town where dark secrets unfold isn’t anything new to these seasoned hunters, except when it has something to do with urban legends…apparently.

Warnings: cannon violence, mentions/talk of suicide, mentions of gruesome death, eye bleeding, Blood Mary (idk if this would be a warning but like 🤷🏼‍♀️), mentions of murder, witchy stuff

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra ,@fablesrose

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long to get out again my AP class is really AP-ing and has taken up literally all my time. I spent four days working on a 20 pages packet that took forever meaning I had zero time for this. Again so so sorry.

Word count: 7,719

Bloody Mary

(Masterlist, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter)

“Sam, wake up.” Dean nudges the man in question, the car in park.

Sam wakes, confused, he sits up and looks around. “I take it I was having a nightmare.”

“Yeah, another one.” Dean confirms, and I nod too a frown on my face.

“Hey, at least I got some sleep.” Sam offers

“Sam” I stretch out his name, “that cannot be your positive to this.”

“You know, sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this.” Dean adds.

But Sam ignores us, avoids the whole conversation, “Are we here?”

Dean lets him avoid the whole ordeal and I have to wonder how long he will let his brother lie. Though I guess I'm no better. “Yup. Welcome to Toledo, Ohio.”

Sam picks up a newspaper that sat on the console of the car, the obituary of Steven Shoemaker circled.

‘The Shoemaker family is sad to announce the sudden death of their beloved husband and father Steven Shoemarker. Steven was 46. A short service will be held on Wednesday, [...] 31 at 2:00 p.m. at the Toledo [...] and cherish you [...] Your [...]’ The article read.

“So what do you think really happened to this guy?” Sam asks us.

“That's what we're gonna find out.” Dean answers, turning off the car. “Let's go.”

We exit the car, entering the large hospital building that stood in front of us walking up to the two desks that lie in the room. One of them is empty with a name tag that reads, ‘Dr. D. Feiklowicz.’ The other one however was occupied by a Morgue technician in blue scrubs, “Hey” the man greets us as we approach.

“Hey.” Dean answers back.

“Can I help you?” The technician asks, looking between the three of us.

“Yeah. We're the, uh...med students.” Dean lies.

“Sorry?” The man asks back.

“Oh, Doctor—“ Dean stammers over the name, “—Figlavitch didn't tell you? We talked to him on the phone. He, uh, we're from Ohio State. He's supposed to show us the Shoemarker corpse. It's for our paper.”

“Well, I'm sorry, he's at lunch.” The tech informs us.

“Oh well he said, uh—“ Dean sighs, “—oh, well, you know, it doesn't matter. You don't mind just showing us the body, do you?”

“Sorry, I can't. Doc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him if you want.” He tells us, gesturing to the seats on the side of the room.

“An hour? Ooh. We gotta be heading back to Columbus by then.” Dean looks at me and Sam as if queuing us to lie with him.

“Yeah.” Sam and I say at the same time, “Jinx” I mumble underneath my breath just loud enough for Sam to hear me who in return gives me a scrunched face.

“Uh, look, man, this paper's like half our grade, so if you don't mind helping us out—“ Dena explains getting cut off by the man in scrubs, “Uh, look, man...no.”

Dean laughs a little. He turns around to face us, mumbling, “I'm gonna hit him in his face I swear.”

But I mean we can’t really blame the guy he’s just doing his job.

Sam hits his brother on the arm, taking a step in front of him he opens his wallet and pulls out some twenties. He lays a few of them, at least five, down on the desk. The Morgue Tech picks up the money, “Follow me.”

The technician gets up and leaves. I go to follow, seeing in the corner of my eye Dean grabbing Sam when he too tries to follow, forcing me to stop and go back a step to see what they are on about.

“Dude, I earned that money.” Dean complains.

“You won it in a poker game.” Sam clarifies.

“Yeah.” Dean answers.

Sam rolls his eyes, pulling away from his brother to follow the technician.

“You’ll make it back” I say, patting Dean on the back shortly to go follow the morgue man.

Dean stays back a half a second before following after us.

“Now the newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding.” Sam said as the Morgue Tech pulled back the sheet over Steven’s face. Revealing a pale, long faced man with dark hair, blood stained on his cheeks below his eyes as if he had cried them.

“More than that. They practically liquefied.” The tech scuffs.

“Any sign of a struggle? Maybe somebody did it to him?” Dean asks him.

“Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone.” He answers.

“What's the official cause of death?” Sam questioned.

“Ah, Doc's not sure. He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure.” He replied.

“You mean like cerebral bleeding?” I ask, wanting to clarify.

“Yeah. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen.” He responded.

“The eyes & mash;what would cause something like that?” Sam asked.

“Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims.” The technician explains.

“Yeah? You ever see exploding eyeballs?” Dean scuffs.

“That's a first for me, but hey, I'm not the doctor.” The tech shrugs.

“Hey, think we could take a look at that police report? You know for, uh...our paper.” Dean requests.

“I'm not really supposed to show you that.” He answers, stretching out ‘that.’

Sam sighs clearly annoyed, as he pulls out his wallet.

Now leaving the hospital, walking down the stairs Sam suggests, “Might not be one of ours. Might just be some freak medical thing.”

“How many times in Dad's long and varied career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?” Dean points out.

“Uh, almost never.” Sam answers.

“Exactly.”

“Well then, let's go talk to the daughter.” I announce”

We walk into Steven’s funeral, a picture of him on the desk.

All the men in the room are wearing black suits and the women adorned in black dresses, everyone except us. Dean points this very fact out, “Feel like we're underdressed.” I nod in agreement, my lips in a tight line, the guilt of interrupting these people’s mourning with not only us being undressed but also for not having a reasonable explanation of us being here.

But no one stops us as we keep walking through the house, all the way towards the back and outside to the backyard.

A man points us towards Donna and Lily Shoemarker, the daughters of the man we had seen on a metal table only moments before, who are standing near two people whom I can only assume is a friend or family member.

“You must be Donna, right?” Dean greets the eldest daughter as we approach the group of people.

“Yeah.” She answers sadly brushing her short brunette hair out of her face.

“Hi, uh—we're really sorry.” Sam says.

“Thank you.” She replies, and I know she must have heard that same phrase of ‘i’m sorry’ and must have answered the same ‘thank you’ over and over to each person here. As if the death of her father hadn’t broken what’s inside her enough.

“I'm Sam, this is Dean, and that’s Y/N. We worked with your dad.” He explains.

She looks at one of the adults near her and then back at us, “You did?” And I feel bad for lying to her about this to give her a connection to her father that had never existed.

“Yeah. This whole thing. I mean, a stroke.” Dean goes on.

“I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now” One of the men with her say, stepping in.

“It's okay. I'm okay.” Donna says, with a sharp nod.

“Were there any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?” Dean asks, listing out various options.

“No.” She says simply.

Lily, the youngest daughter, turns around, “That's because it wasn't a stroke.”

“Lily, don’t say that.” Donna snaps.

“What?” Sam asks.

“I'm sorry, she's just upset.” Donna explains.

“No, it happened because of me.” Lily speaks up.

“Sweetie, it didn't.” Donna tries to convince.

“Oh Lily”, I say sadly crouching down to be closer to her eye level, “What makes you think that?” I knew what it felt like to blame yourself for someone else’s death, especially your parents, especially when it happens twice and you're too young to understand why this would happen to you. I feel the eyes of the people around me bore into me, especially from the brothers behind me.

“Right before he died, I said it.” Lily answers.

“Said what?” I ask her.

“Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror.” She explains, pausing, “She took his eyes, that's what she does.” My eyes go wide, not exactly expecting that answer.

“That's not why Dad died. This isn't your fault.” Donna reasons.

“I think your sister's right, Lily. There's no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he?” Dean offers, giving the kid some logic to combat what she believes.

“No, I don't think so.” Lily answers. But I know it will take her years to really believe it wasn’t her fault, if ever.

Saying ‘bye’ to the grief rickened family we head back inside the house, but instead of truly leaving we sneak upstairs, approaching the bathroom.

Sam pushes the door open, dried blood stained to the white tiled floor, “The Bloody Mary legend...Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?”

“Not that I know of.” Dean answers, him and I trailing in after Sam who stoops to the floor touching the dried blood, “I mean, everywhere else all over the country, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it.”

I grimace, why would he touch the blood?

“Yeah, well, maybe everywhere it's just a story, but here it's actually happening.” Dean offers.

“The place where the legend began?” Sam asks and we both shrug, Dean opening the medicine cabinet.

“But according to the legend, the person who says B—“ Sam looks at the medicine cabinet mirror, it now facing him, he closes it before continuing, “The person who says you know what gets it. But here—“

“Mr.Shoemaker gets it instead” I finish his sentence.

“Right.”

“Never heard anything like that before. Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, you know who scratches your eyes out.” Dean adds.

“It's worth checking in to.” Sam concludes, as we leave the bathroom.

“What are you doing up here?” A blonde woman stops us, the same woman who was comforting the daughters outside.

“We—we, had to go to the bathroom.” Dean lies, poorly, because it makes perfect sense for three people to be using a private bathroom all at once.

“Who are you?” She asks us, naturally not accepting the poorly down lie.

“Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad.” Dean confirms.

“He was a day trader or something. He worked by himself.” She counters, and we should really start researching these people before we make up lies of how we know them.

Dean tries to cover, “No, I know, I meant—“

“And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that? So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming.” She tells us, leaving no more room for any nonsense.

“All right, all right. We think something happened to Donna's dad.” Sam begins.

“Yeah, a stroke.” She answers.

“But it isn’t a typical sign of stroke, it might be something else.” I say softly, ashamed for suggesting such a thing to someone who has no knowledge of our world. These people are going through so much the last thing they need is some random people questioning what they know, I wouldn’t blame her if she did scream.

“Like what?” She scoffs, crossing her arms in front of her.

Sam explains this time probably sensing my unease with all this, “Honestly? We don't know yet. But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth.”

Dean tilts his head, “So, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead.” My eyes widened, snapping to look at him, and suddenly that unease I felt vanished, replaced by a burning hot feeling that rushed through my veins and brought a flush to my face. I gulped, trying to push down the feeling a simple sentence that wasn’t even directed towards me made me feel. The cockiness it held as well as the allowance in his voice…it shouldn’t have affected me, and really shouldn’t have created a burning-longing in my gut.

“Who are you, cops?” The woman questions us, but my eyes haven’t left Dean as if he was light and I a moth.

I catch Sam and Dean looking at each other, speaking without words, in my peripheral vision. “Something like that” Dean answers.

It’s then that Dean must have felt my gaze on him, my lips slightly agape as I looked at him through my lashes. His attention turned to me as Sam continued the conversation that I had long blanked out of. Dean looked me over, eyes trailing over my very being, only worsening the burning I had felt within. His eyes met mine again giving me that devilish smirk of his, I swallowed again my eyes falling to his lips.

Sam clears his throat, nudging his brothers hard enough that he knocks into me slightly. Effectively catching our attention.

“Let’s go” He tells us, the woman still in front of us this time her attention to a small piece of white paper that I assume has some sort of contact information on it.

“All right, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town. There's gonna be some sort of proof—Like a local woman who died nasty.” Dean begins as we walk into the oddly dark library, the stale smell of cleaning products surrounding us.

“Yeah but Blood Mary is a widespread legend with tons of versions of who she actually is, with no clear answer. There’s the mutilated bride, a spirit conjured to tell the future, a witch, and a whole lot more” I answer.

“All right so what are we supposed to be looking for?” Dean asks.

“Well in every version's got a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies right in front of a mirror. So we've gotta search local newspapers—public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill.” Sam adds, answering.

“Well that sounds annoying” Dean admits.

“No it won't be so bad, as long as we…” Sam trails off looking over to the table lined with computers all that say ‘Out of Order’, he chuckles “I take it back. This will be very annoying.”

We quickly turned around, heading back to the motel we were staying at to do our research there. Dean sat leaning with his head on his hand on the small table in the room on his brother's laptop. The younger brother in question had fallen asleep on one of the beds, the rustling of the sheets giving away the fact he was tossing and turning. I however sat crisscrossed on the other bed Deans to be specific, not like he cared anyways, researching on my laptop trying to find any relevant info on a Mary in this town or deaths relating to mirrors.

“Why'd you let me fall asleep?” Sam suddenly speaks up, voice evident with sleep.

“Cause I'm an awesome brother” Dean scoffs, he’d never admit it was really because Sam hadn’t been able to sleep or at least sleep long for the last couple of weeks.

“And what’s your excuse Y/N?” Sam questions me, leaning on his side with one arm propped up.

“You were sleepy!” I admit simply, smiling at him. He rolls his eyes, huffing a laugh.

“So what did you dream about?” Dean asks him, though what he was really asking was ‘did you have another nightmare?’

“Lollipops and candy canes.” He answers sarcastically. So sassy and for what?

“Yum” I reply, my eyes going back to my laptop.

“Did you find anything?” Sam asks us.

“Oh besides a whole new level of frustration?” Dean huffs, making Sam sit up, “No. We’ve looked at everything. A few local women, a Laura and a Catherine committed suicide in front of a mirror, and a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave, but uh, no Mary.”

Sam falls back on the bed, the crisp sheets making a ‘whoosh’ noise beneath him, “Maybe we just haven't found it yet.”

“Thing is, there’s also been no strange deaths in the area, no other eyeball bleeding. Nothing. Which you know is good in hindsight but not quite helpful for us.” I explain.

Dean adds on, “Whatever's happening here, maybe it just ain't Mary.”

Almost as if on cue Sam’s phone rings, he answers, still laying down. “Hello?”

Charlie, the blonde woman who questioned us before, sat on the park bench slightly hunched. I sat next to her to offer some comfort, while Dean sat on the back on the bench, his leg nearly brushing my back.

“And they found her on the bathroom floor. And her—her eyes. They were gone.” Charlie nearly sobbed, having explained everything that happened with her friend Jill.

Jill, who had wanted to tease the blonde women about believing in such a legend, saying the name in the mirror and winding up dead. Her death being in the same manner as Mr. Shoemaker.

“I'm sorry.” Sam answered, eyebrows scrunched together.

“And she said it. I heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?” She whimpered, using the back of her hands to clear the wetness from her cheeks.

“You aren’t insane” I tell her clearly.

“Oh God, that makes me feel so much worse.” She whines and I try to not let it hurt me, because she's griefing, even though it does.

“Look. We think something's happening here. Something that can't be explained” Sam explains. Dean adding, “And we're gonna stop it but we could use your help.”

Dean lifts me up again, this time to reach an elevated first floor window rather than a fence. His hands sliding from tight around my hips, to brushing down my thighs as he lifts me in reach of the window sill. The window wasn’t that high to reach in the first place but with my height, amidtely being shorter than both the boys, it wasn’t exactly comfortable or super easy to reach the window and pull myself up and in.

My hands grasp the cold white window sill, my rings clinking against the surface as I pull my body up. I swiftly slide my hips sideways making my butt land on the sill, in the same sort of movements you would use when you lift yourself out of a pool.

I move my legs inside the carpeted room, ducking slightly as to not hit my head on the open window. The room belonged to Jill, and as my feet hit the soft gray carpet I officially feel the disgust of intrusion creep up on me.

I slide off the windowsill moving into the room more, Sam quickly taking my place near the window to pick up the duffle Dean threw up at him. He catches it, putting it on the bed and immediately digging through it.

“So what did you tell Jill’s mom?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest, the uncomfortability of being in someone’s bedroom let alone a dead girls bedroom crawling up my skin and in my bones.

“Just that I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things.” Charlie answers looking between us and the door nervously. Dean climbs through the window shutting the curtain behind and Sam pulls something out of the bag. “I hate lying to her” Charlie adds.

“Trust us, this is for the greater good. Hit the lights” Dean orders.

She goes over to the lights, “”What are you guys looking for?

“We'll let you know as soon as we find it.” Dean hums.

Sam hands him a camcorder on and ready, the object he got from the duffel, “Hey, night vision.” He recalls prompting the older brother to do so, his face scrunched with focus as he finds the button.

“Perfect.” Sam smiles.

The little screen of the camcorder is facing Dean, in a ‘selfie’ like mode, “Do I look like Paris Hilton?” He smiles.

I laugh, slapping a hand to his upper arm on instinct, “Sure you do, baby” I joke, the pet name not something I ever use slipping from my tongue before I could realize. His head turns to give me an amused and smug smirk. In his distractment Sam takes the camera back, going over to the closet door filming around the mirror.

“So I don't get it. I mean...the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?” Sam asks out loud.

“Beats me.” Dean answers, focusing back on the situation at hand. “I want to know why Jill said it in the first place.”

“It was just a joke.” Charlie reasons.

“Yeah well somebody's gonna say it again, it's just a matter of time.” Dean replies.

Sam wandered into the bathroom now, looking at the mirror there. “Hey!” He calls out, getting us to turn and look at him. “There's a black light in the trunk, right?”

Dean immediately went off to go get it coming back rather swiftly, just as Sam placed the mirror on Jill’s bed laying it upside down after having carried it from the bathroom. With the black light now in hand, he peels off the brown paper that’s on the back of the mirror, shining the purple light on its back revealing a handprint and the name ‘Gary Bryman.’

“Gary Bryman?” Charlie reads out loud both as an acknowledgment and also a question.

“Do you know who that is?” I ask her.

“No.” She answers simply.

Back on the bench, in nearly the same positions, Sam recalls his findings. “So, Gary Bryman was an 8-year-old boy. Two years ago he was killed in a hit and run. The car was described as a black Toyota Camry. But nobody got the plates or saw the driver.”

“Oh my God.” Charlie gasps, horror in her eyes as she covers her mouth.

“What?” I ask the question we’re all thinking.

“Jill drove that car” She answers. Without looking for confirmation I know the boy's eyes are wide too, but there’s no room for the talking that comes after shock.

“We need to get back to your friend Donna’s house.

Somehow, with the help of Charlie, we convinced our way into Donna’s house back up to the bathroom we were in only hours before.

Hunched over the mirror with the black light, our suspicions were correct. There’s a handprint, one I have to say looks like the one in Jill’s bathroom, but I'm no criminologist. This time the name ‘Linda Shoemaker’ is written on it.

We all look at each other, knowing it’s likely that Steven killed his wife hence why Bloody Mary went for him and not the young girl who chanted her name. But the only way to have any idea of this theory is correct is to ask the brunette teenager downstairs.

“Why are you asking me this?” Donna asks us.

“I’m really sorry, Donna, but this is important.” I try to explain, but I know it won’t make sense to her. I mean we are total strangers asking her uncomfortable questions about her dead mother.

“Yeah. Linda's my mom okay? She overdosed on sleeping pills, it was an accident, and that's it.” She fumes, eyebrows scrunched together in fury, “I think you should leave.”

“Now Donna, just listen.” Dean reaches a hand up, as if to motion ‘calm down.’ But it doesn't work. Teary eyed and a little red in the face she yells, “Get out of my house!” Swiftly she runs up the stairs, not giving us another option.

“Oh my God. Do you really think her dad could've killed her mom?” Charlie asks, finally picking up on our theory.

“Maybe.” Sam shrugs.

“I think I should stick around” Charlie announces, referring to staying with Donna, which is probably a good idea.

“All right. Whatever you do, don't—“ Dean tries to warn getting cut off, “Believe me, I won't say it.”

The crisp smell of old books and, oddly, cinnamon fill my nose as I take a deep breath, flexing my hand as I work out the cramping from writing a little too intensely in my small journal.

Dean sits next to me on the cold metal chairs in the library we decided to research in (different to the original one we were at), he’s typing away on the clunky computer the library has. Sam’s staring off at a bulletin board behind us with all sorts of things on it.

“Wait, wait, wait, you're doing a nationwide search?” He asks Dean, alerting us of him coming back to his seat on the other side of his brother.

“Yep. The NCIC, the FBI database—at this point any Mary who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me.” Dean answers.

“But if she's haunting the town, she should have died in the town.” Sam points out.

“I'm telling you there's nothing local, I've checked. So unless you got a better idea—“ Dean explains and as much as I love him I cut him off.

“Well, Mary’s victims have a pattern, which I know you guys already know so I'll just cut to the good part. Both victims had secrets relating to where people died and, here’s the good part, there’s a lot of folklore on mirrors, specifically that mirrors are a reflection of your soul. And with that your secrets and lies are revealed to the mirror.

Fun Fact! It was the Romans who believed that the soul would regenerate every seven years, so if you broke a mirror then you’d have to wait seven years until your soul was cleansed of the bad luck and misfortune.

And while I have more fun facts about mirrors I will end it there.” I smiled, satisfied with my information vomit as well as my fun fact because fun facts are wonderful.

Both boys look at me strangely, a mix of confusion and what I think is amazement (they should be amazed cause that was a really great fun fact). Dean seems to shake it off, “Right. So if you've got a secret, I mean like a really nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it, and punishes you for it.”

Sam adding, “Whether you're the one that summoned her or not.”

“Correcto!” I answer, and by correct I mean that’s what I was thinking for our working theory.

“Then take a look at this.” Dean announces, clicking a few buttons on the computer before leaning over to the nearby printer, pulling out and handing us the paper. It’s a picture of a woman lying by a mirror in a puddle of blood. He prints out another picture, this time of a handprint and the letters “Tre.”

“Looks like the same handprint.” Sam points out and I nod in agreement.

“Her name was Mary Worthington—an unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana.”

“I was on the job for 35 years-detective for most of that. Now everybody packs it in with a few loose ends, but the Mary Worthington murder—that one still gets me.” The detective states, unfortunately I immediately forgot his name. It's not the nicest thing to happen but I was also really focused on his country accent that’s just a little too funny.

“What exactly happened?” Dean asked, leaning forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees.

“You boys and girl said you were reporters?” Mr. Detective questioned.

“We know Mary was 19, lived by herself. We know she won a few local beauty contests, dreamt of getting out of Indiana, being an actress. And we know the night of March 29th someone broke into her apartment and murdered her, cut out her eyes with a knife.” Sam recalls the gruesome story.

“That's right.” He confirms.

“See sir, when we asked you what happened, we wanted to know what you think happened.” Sam clarifies for him, somewhere between a curious and condescending tone.

Mr. Detective eyes us over as if he’s contemplating something. He spins his wheely chair around swiftly getting up and going to a large file cabinet. “Technically I'm not supposed to have a copy of this” He huffs, pulling out a file and then a picture, the same picture Dean had already found on the computer. “Now see that there? T-R-E?” Detective reads out, even though unbeknownst to him it’s old news to us.

“Yeah” Dean answers.

“I think Mary was trying to spell out the name of her killer.” He theorizes.

“Do you know who it was, or any theories?” I ask, trying to get any sort of new answers.

“Not for sure. But there was a local man, a surgeon-Trevor Sampson.” He pulls out another photo, this time of this Trevor guy, he has an oval face with curly short hair definitely on the darker side but I can’t say exactly what color due to the black and white photo. He’s also wearing some sunglasses.

“And I think he cut her up good.” He finishes, his accent thick.

“Why do you think it’s him?” I question further.

“Her diary mentioned a man that she was seeing. She called him by his initial, ‘T’. Well, her last entry, she was gonna tell ‘T’'s wife about their affair.” He answers, and for a detective that truly means nothing.

“No offense but how does that directly correlate to Sampson… I mean there’s other people with the initial ‘T’ right?” I question him again, hoping it doesn't offend the man.

“It's hard to say, but the way her eyes were cut out...it was almost professional.” He explains.

“But you could never prove it?” Dean asks, chiming in.

“No. No prints, no witnesses. He was meticulous.” Mr. Detective nods.

“Is he still alive?” Dean follows up.

“Nope.” He sighs, sitting down. “If you ask me, Mary spent her last living moments trying to expose this guy's secret. But she never could.”

“Where's she buried?” Sam asks this time.

“She wasn't. She was cremated” He answers. No digging up bodies for us today.

“What about that mirror”, Dean nods towards the one in the photo, “It's not in some evidence lockup somewhere is it?”

“Ah, no. It was returned to Mary's family a long time ago.” He explains, leaning back in his chair.

“You have the names of her family by any chance?”

We drive down the roads, the sun setting behind us. Sam’s call dictates where we go, either to whatever location he gives us or back to the motel.

“Oh really? Ah that's too bad Mr. Worthington. I would have paid a lot for that mirror. Okay, well maybe next time. All right, thanks.” Sam hangs up, pocketing his phone.

“So?” Dean asks.

“So that was Mary's brother. The mirror was in the family for years, until he sold it one week ago to a store called Estate Antiques. A store in Toledo.” Sam stated.

“So wherever the mirror goes, that's where Mary goes?” Dean raises.

“Her spirit's definitely tied up with it somehow.” Sam simply puts it.

“Isn't there an old superstition that says mirrors can capture spirits?” Dean asks.

“Yeah! People would cover up the mirror when someone died so that their spirit/ soul wouldn’t get trapped.” I explain, happy to spew some more of my fun facts.

“So Mary dies in front of a mirror, and it draws in her spirit” Dean works through the facts.

“Yes! But I don’t know how she’s working through various mirrors” I admit.

“I don't know either, but if the mirror is the source, I say we find it and smash it.” Dean proposes.

“Yeah, I don't know, maybe.” Sam gets cut off by his own phone, “ Hello.” A look of concern washes over his face, becoming pale “Charlie?”

The motel room is colder, the rain outside causing that meek fact. Charlie’s sitting on Sam’s bed, her head on her knees, after we picked her up from school all terrified. All the curtains are drawn shut, all the mirrors and reflective surfaces are covered with sheets or turned aquas towards a wall or the floor there will be no bloody mary getting in here.

Sam sits next to Charlie, “Hey, hey it's ok. Hey, you can open up your eyes Charlie. It's okay, all right?” She looks up reluctantly and slowly, “Now listen. You're gonna stay right here on this bed, and you're not gonna look at glass, or anything else that has a reflection, okay? And as long as you do that, she cannot get you.”

“But I can't keep that up forever. I'm gonna die, aren't I?” Her voice wobbled, fresh tears running down her cheeks.

“No. No. Not anytime soon.” Sam comforts, but I don’t think it helps.

Dean sits on the bed too, “All right Charlie. We need to know what happened.”

“We were in the bathroom. Donna said it.” She answers simply, rocking herself slightly.

“That's not what we're talking about. Something happened, didn't it? In your life...a secret...where someone got hurt. Can you tell us about it?” Dean pushes.

She looks around uncomfortably, swallowing she begins, “I had this boyfriend. I loved him. But he kind of scared me too, you know?” She looks over at me for confirmation knowing without any previous conversation about it that I would understand. And she was right. It was as if bad boyfriends were sewed into the fabrics of being a woman, it would be a little strange if you hadn’t had one.

I nod and she continues, “And one night, at his house, we got in this fight. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me, and he said "Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself." And you know what I said? I said "Go ahead." And I left. How could I say that? How could I leave him like that? I just...I didn't believe him, you know? I should have.” She cries harder, going back to her previous position.

I move towards her, Sam getting up to allow me to sit close to her. I hug her, holding her close despite her awkward position. “That’s not your fault” I told her simply, and I meant it too. She uncurls herself, quickly wrapping her arms around me and stuffing her face into my neck. I hold her tighter. “You did the right thing, leaving him” I mutter.

Dean huffs, gripping the steering wheel slightly tighter, “You were right back there Y/N, her boyfriend killing himself, that's not really Charlie's fault.”

“You guys should know as well as I do that spirits don't exactly see shades of gray. Charlie had a secret, someone died, that's good enough for Mary.” Sam reasons.

“I guess” Dean sighs.

“You know, I've been thinking. It might not be enough to just smash that mirror.” Sam suggests.

“Oh, what do you mean?” I ask with a tilt of my head.

“Well Mary's hard to pin down, right? I mean she moves around from mirror to mirror so who's to say that she's not just gonna keep hiding in them forever? So maybe we should try to pin her down, you know, summon her to her mirror and then smash it.” Sam explains.

“Well how do you know that's going to work?” Dean questions.

“I don't, not for sure.” Sam shrugs.

“Well who's gonna summon her?” Dean follows up.

“I will. She'll come after me.” Sam states as if it’s the most obvious answer and with no care for himself.

“You know what, that's it.” Dean nearly shouts, pulling the car over quickly and roughly making my body shift nearly knocking into the door.

“This is about Jessica, isn't it? You think that's your dirty little secret that you killed her somehow? Sam, this has got to stop, man. I mean, the nightmares and calling her name out in the middle of the night—it's gonna kill you.” Dean fumes, not quite yelling but also not quite talking.

“Now listen to me—It wasn't your fault. If you wanna blame something, then blame the thing that killed her. Or hell, why don't you take a swing at me? I mean I'm the one that dragged you away from her in the first place.”

“I don't blame you.” Sam answers plainly, almost in defeat

“Well you shouldn't blame yourself, because there's nothing you could've done.” Dean adds.

“I could've warned her.” Sam sighs, and the pain in his voice makes me want to cry.

“Sam…you couldn’t have known that would happen.” I chime in, though it doesn't quite feel like my place.

“And besides, all of this isn't a secret, I mean we know all about it. It's not gonna work with Mary anyway.” Dean exclaims.

“No you don't.” Sam states, no further explanation given.

“I don't what?” Dean asks.

“You don't know all about it. I haven't told you everything.” Sam shrugs.

“What are you talking about?” Dean questions, face full of confusion.

“Well it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?” He replied sassily.

Dean looks surprised, “No. I don't like it. It's not gonna happen, forget it.”

“Dean, that girl back there is going to die unless we do something about it. And you know what? Who knows how many more people are gonna die after that? Now we're doing this. You've got to let me do this.” But Sam doesn't get any answers, with a roll of his eyes Dean drives off. Conversation over.

Sam is trying to pick the lock on the shop's door, somehow without any word he became the designated lock picker. The dark oak door opens and all around the store are mirrors, mirrors of all shapes and sizes and varieties. Truly the worst place to be in this situation.

“Well...that's just great, '' Dean sighs, pulling out the photo of Mary’s corpse to look at the mirror, the one we’re looking for being a wooden frame. Not very helpful considering our location where there are countless mirrors that look exactly the same. “All right let's start looking.”

I nod in agreement handing both boys their crowbars. I shifted my baseball bat in my hand, there wasn’t a third crowbar and there was no reason for it anyways, a baseball bat is just as good at smashing.

We enter the dark store, flashlights on, splitting up we look for our specific mirror.

“Maybe they've already sold it.” Dean suggests, from some part of the store.

“I don't think so.” Sam says, stopping in his tracks. Dean and I walk over on either side of the taller man, Dean pulls out the picture again comparing the two. It’s our mirror.

“That's it.” Dean sighs, “You sure about this?”

Sam hands over his flashlight and sighs, “Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary.” He looks between the both of us, “Bloody Mary.”

A light shines through the store windows, illuminating the room.

“I'll go check that out. You guys stay here, be careful. Smash anything that moves.” Dean shuffles away.

I grip my bat tighter as a breath that isn’t mine nor Sam’s surrounds us. He turns around quickly but I keep my back towards him, “Nothing?” I ask and he hums in confirmation.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Mary in one of the mirrors, I step forward swinging my bat back and then forward hard. The glass shatters falling to the floor around my feet. Then Sam hits a mirror behind me, before swiftly turning back to her mirror.

“Come on. Come into this one.” He mutters underneath his breath.

He tilts his head watching his regeneration weirdly when suddenly he starts breathing heavily grabbing at his chest.

“Sam!” I shout, grabbing his arm. His eyes begin to bleed, blood trickling down his cheeks. He drops his crowbar, the metal clinking against the floor loudly.

“It's your fault. You killed her. You killed Jessica.” A voice rings out, one that sounds like Sam’s though I know it’s not him speaking. I help him to the floor carefully as he grabs his chest harder.

“You never told her the truth—who you really were. But it's more than that, isn't it?” The voice fumes.

I get up leaving Sam to the floor, “That’s enough of you” I mutter, gripping my baseball bat tight. I hit her mirror, the glass shatters around me.

I hear Sam take a deep breath in, when I look down at him he’s no longer holding his chest. He holds a thumb up to me, weakly.

But for some reason the voice didn’t stop, Mary was no longer hurting Sam but her accusations wouldn’t stop.

“Those nightmares you've been having of Jessica dying, screaming, burning—You had them for days before she died. Didn't you!?! You were so desperate to ignore them, to believe they were just dreams. How could you ignore them like that? How could you leave her alone to die!?! You dreamt it would happen!!!”

I smash three more mirrors, anything to get it to stop by it doesn't.

“SAM, SAMMY!” Dean shouts, rushing into the room and crouching down to his brother.

“It's Sam” He answers meekly.

Dean holds onto his brother's face gently, eyeing his face and the blood on it, “God, are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah.” Sam replies, a little unsure though considering the circumstances I get it.

“Come on, come on.” He pulls Sam up, bringing his arm around his neck with a nod of his head towards the door. I follow the boys towards the exit.

A sudden crunching noise forces us to turn around. Mary crawls out of the frame of her mirror, her long black hair covering her face, she walks over the broken glass with no care, her head tilting to the side as she crawls towards us. Her dark nearly black eyes bore into us, somehow she forces us to the floor.

My chest feels tight as if someone was squeezing my heart, I try to crawl backwards on my hands like a crab walk when a sharp pain surges through my hand followed by my eyes. I bring my hand in front of me, a large slash runs through my palm, a piece of glass sticking out of it. The ache in my eyes I know is not caused by glass but by Mary, I reach my gold hand up to my cheek blood trickling down my face. I suck in a breath, the pain not helping the already pain I was feeling. I look over to the boys on the left of me nearly on top of each other as blood runs down both their cheeks.

Mary stands approaching us with a head tilt and a limp. I grumble holding up a shaky hand, waving my hand once, slowly, making long mirrors form in a line in front of Mary acting as a wall between us.

“You killed them! All those people! You killed them!” A female voice cried out, Mary’s voice.

She looks at her reflections scared, when she begins to choke. She grabs on to her throat and her chest, crumbling down to the ground she shrieks, turning to a puddle of blood

With another wave of my hand the wall of mirrors shatters, glass falling to the floor loudly.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yeah?” I hum feeling a little defeated.

“This has got to be like...what? 600 years of bad luck?” He asks me and I can’t help the big smile that falls on my face.

“Mmm I can’t wait” I laugh, the sarcastic comment coming to me with ease.

The sun rises in front of us, gleaming on the Impala. Our faves are cleaned up, ridden of blood and the event that unfolded. The only proof of it happening being my hand that’s carefully wrapped in white gauze, the glass now out and the cut cleaned.

Charlie sits next to me in the back seat as we pull up to her house, it's odd having someone else back here with me.

“So this is really over?” She asks us, her eyes puffy from her night of crying.

Dean looks at her through the rearview mirror, nodding, “Yeah, it's over.”

“Thank you.” She says, Dean reaching back to shake her hand. She turns to me next, arms open in a hug. I close the gap between us and give her a good squeeze.

She smiles a little sadly at me, getting out of the car.

“Charlie?” Sam calls out, stopping the woman in her tracks. She turns around, “Your boyfriend's death...you really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn't have stopped it. Sometimes bad things just happen.”

She smiles faintly, turning back around to go into her house.

Dean hits his brother's arm gently, “That's good advice.”

We drive off the car falling silent for a beat before Dean talks again, “Hey Sam?”

“Yeah?” He answers.

“Now that this is all over, I want you to tell me what that secret is.” Dean tells him, looking between him and the road.

“Look...you're my brother and I'd die for you, but there are some things I need to keep to myself.” He admits with a sigh, looking out the window.

The car falls silent again.

Healing isn’t easy. It's not something you can put a bandaid on and expect to be fine, and maybe all that Sam shared will be enough for now but that’s not something we can gauge.

That is times doing, and time isn’t something we can control.

God knows i’ve tried.

[freddiemercurylegendabovelegends]

Today, on 11th February, 1975 - Queen Story!

Toledo, OH, USA, Student Union Auditorium

'Sheer Heart Hattack Tour'

Extract:

"Freddie chuckled at the memory as he sipped tea from a ceremonial bowl. He was clad in a dazzling kimono, and sat crossed legged on the floor of his abode, decorated with Samurai swords and hand-made parasols, just down the road from Shepherd's Bush.

Rather like the Victorian explorers, he had brought home the lifestyle and artifacts of a foreign culture, and seemed anxious not to lose the magic of a country that had obviously made a considerable impression.

"I loved it there, the life style, the art...I'd go back tomorrow if I could," insisted Freddie shooing his cats Tom and Gerry off a Led Zeppelin album that had been carelessly left exposed.

How has it been these last few months? Freddie seemed just slightly enervated, not quite the garrulous showman I first met on a dark night in Liverpool, on their British tour last Autumn.

"It's been...fun. When we finished the English tour we went to Europe. We came back at Christmas and then went to America, which was quite a bash Two months.

"That's when I came a cropper.

I had voice trouble, these horrible nodules began to form on my vocal cords.

"I went to see specialists in England and America, and they were talking about an operation, but fortunately they seem to have gone down now and it won't be necessary.

Thank God.

In America they were talking about giving me laser beam treatment. They just singe them off, but they still don't know about the after effects, which could be dangerous.

"I had experienced trouble before, and always thought it was just a sore throat.But in America it really started hurting, especially after we did six shows in four nights."

..........

"How long had this been going on in Japan?

"Well, 'Queen II' was the LP of the year, and since then it just built up. We were given so many beautiful presents, dolls, lanterns, and they're so into rock music."

...........

"Freddie in jest, to avoid questions about their next album, which was not yet in the works: "Did I ever tell you about the time a girl pushed a dog into my arms while I was singing on stage in Toledo?"...

[readyforevolution]

WHEN BLACK-MEN RULED THE WORLD

Some Things You Did Not Know About the Moors of Spain

1. The Spanish occupation by the Moors began in 711 AD when an African army, under their leader Tariq ibn-Ziyad, crossed the Strait of Gibraltar from northern Africa and invaded the Iberian peninsula ‘Andalus’.

2. A European scholar sympathetic to the Spaniards remembered the conquest in this way:

a. The reins of the Moors horses were as fire, their faces black as pitch, their eyes shone like burning candles, their horses were swift as leopards and the riders fiercer than a wolf in a sheepfold at night . . . The noble Goths [the German rulers of Spain to whom Roderick belonged] were broken in an hour, quicker than tongue can tell. Oh luckless Spain!

Quoted in Edward Scobie, The Moors and Portugal’s Global Expansion, in Golden Age of the Moor, ed Ivan Van Sertima, US, Transaction Publishers, 1992, p.336

3. The Moors, who ruled Spain for 800 years, introduced new scientific techniques to Europe, such as an astrolabe, a device for measuring the position of the stars and planets. Scientific progress in Astronomy, Chemistry, Physics, Mathematics, Geography and Philosophy flourished in Moorish Spain.

4. Basil Davidson, one of the most noted historians recognized and declared that there were no lands at that time (the eighth century) “more admired by its neighbours, or more comfortable to live in, than a rich African civilization which took shape in Spain”

5. At its height, Córdova, the heart of Moorish territory in Spain, was the most modern city in Europe and the world. The streets were well-paved, with raised sidewalks for pedestrians. During the night, ten miles of streets were well illuminated by lamps. This was hundreds of years before there was a paved street in Paris or a street lamp in London. Cordova had 900 public baths – we are told that a poor Moor would go without bread rather than soap while the then

Queen of England never had a bath!

6. The Great Mosque of Córdoba (La Mezquita) is still one of the architectural wonders of the world in spite of later Spanish disfigurements. Its low scarlet and gold roof, supported by 1,000 columns of marble, jasper and and porphyry, was lit by thousands of brass and silver lamps which burned perfumed oil.

7. Education was universal in Moorish Spain, available to all, while in Christian Europe more than ninety-nine percent of the population were illiterate, and even kings could neither read nor write. At that time, Europe had only two universities copied from Spain, the Moors had seventeen great Universities! These were located in Almeria, Cordova, Granada, Juen, Malaga, Seville, and Toledo in which the majority of the lecturers were women.

8. In the tenth and eleventh centuries, public libraries in Europe were non-existent, while Moorish Spain could boast of more than seventy, of which the one in Cordova housed six hundred thousand manuscripts.

9. Over 4,000 Arabic words and Arabic-derived phrases have been absorbed into the Spanish language. Words beginning with “al,” for example, are derived from Arabic. Arabic words such as algebra, alcohol, chemistry, nadir, alkaline, and cipher entered the language. Even words such as checkmate, influenza, typhoon, orange, and cable can be traced back to Arabic origins.

10. The most significant Moorish musician was known as Ziryab, the Blackbird who arrived in Spain in 822. The Moors introduced earliest versions of several instruments, including the Lute or el oud, the guitar or kithara and the Lyre. Ziryab changed the style of eating by breaking meals into separate courses beginning with soup and ending with desserts.

11. The Moors introduced paper to Europe and Arabic numerals, which replaced the clumsy Roman system.

12. The Moors introduced many new crops including the orange, lemon, peach, apricot, fig, sugar cane, dates, ginger and pomegranate as well as saffron, sugar cane, cotton, silk and rice which remain some of Spain’s main products today.

13. The Moorish rulers lived in sumptuous palaces, while the monarchs of Germany, France, and England dwelt in big barns, with no windows and no chimneys, and with only a hole in the roof for the exit of smoke. One such Moorish palace ‘Alhambra’ (literally “the red one”) in Granada is one of Spain’s architectural masterpieces. Alhambra was the seat of Muslim rulers from the 13th century to the end of the 15th century. The Alhambra is a UNESCO World Heritage Site

14. It was through Africa that the new knowledge of China, India, and Arabia reached Europe. The Moors brought the Compass from China into Europe.

15. The Moors ruled and occupied Lisbon in Portugal (named “Lashbuna” by the Moors) and the rest of the country until well into the twelfth century. They were finally defeated and driven out by the forces of King Alfonso Henriques. The scene of this battle was the ‘Castle of St. George.’

Beginning in the 12th century and continuing for hundreds of years, the Inquisition was infamous for the severity of its tortures and its persecution of Jews and Muslims. Its worst manifestation was in Spain, where the Spanish Inquisition was a dominant force for more than 200 years, resulting in some 32,000 executions.

[darthgloris]

Volleyball (Berlín x female reader)

Summary: Berlín and Y/N, code name Varsòvia, were childhood friends since high school and finally reunite during the five-month training for the first heist.

Type: fluff

A/N: I wrote the Spanish names because I prefer those to the English ones, no warnings.

Happy reading!

The moment he entered the classroom, my jaw dropped. It shocked me how I recognised him instantly, after twelve years.

“No real names,” his brother reminded me, and I nodded quickly.

I walked up to him and his face lit up as he saw me. I jumped into his arms and he laughed, wrapping his arms around me and spinning me around.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, still laughing out of shock.

“Well, I’m a dirt-poor criminal and 2.4 billion euros didn’t sound so bad, so…” I chuckled. “I could imagine it’s the same for you.”

“Yes. Yes, it is.” He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. I smiled shyly at him, looking at him through my eyelashes and he pecked my cheek affectionately.

“Everyone please take a seat.”

I sat down at a desk and he sat in front of me, flashing me a smirk before turning around. Just like the old days, I thought to myself, smiling.

“First, I would like to set some ground rules. No personal information, that being names, ages, and no relationships.”

The room groaned, and I chuckled silently. I knew everyone would break that rule anyway.

“On the names, let’s do… cities, we’ll do cities. You?” He pointed at the girl in the front seat.

She paused for a second before replying. “Tokyo.”

Then his brother. “Berlín.” He chose. Fitting perfectly with his personality. I thought for a moment.

“Varsòvia.” I picked.

Berlín turned around with a mischievous smile.

“Don’t you dare make Nazi jokes,” I warned him.

“Twelve years, and you still know exactly what I’m thinking,” he responded.

I laughed lightly, “Never gets old.”

…

Life at the estate in Toledo wasn’t bad at all. We had free time and good meals, and I was reunited with Berlín, at last.

“Who’s up for volleyball?” Nairobi asked.

Berlín and I looked at each other knowingly, smiling softly. I winked at him and he winked back as we silently agreed to play our trick.

“I’m a bit rusty, but why not?” I agreed.

“I’m in,” he said. The others agreed as well.

“All right, everyone, let’s make teams,” I said. I silently counted us. Nine.

“We’re not even-numbered.” I said.

“Profesor! Are you playing?” Tokyo yelled.

“Sure.” He replied.

The teams were me, Berlín, Rio, Denver and Tokyo versus Nairobi, Profesor, Moskù, Oslo and Helsinki. Berlín and I took our places: I went in the center and he was in the front-right corner. Our strategy was to be always near each other so we could work together to score as many points as possible.

“You’re going to regret putting those two in the same team,” Profesor said softly to his team, pointing at us.

“Why’s that?” Nairobi asked.

“You’ll see.”

“We’re two teams of five.” I said. “First team that gets to 15 wins.”

Rio served: the ball flew to the other side without a problem and Nairobi dug.

“Berlìn,” I called his name softly and forearm-passed it to him, who attacked with strength and the ball touched the ground.

“Score,” he said proudly.

We used the same strategy again: Rio served again, this time Helsinki attacked and Denver dug.

“Varsòvia,” Berlín set me the ball and I attacked with as much strength as I could and the ball bounced aggressively on the grass.

“Oh, by the way-” I said out loud while approaching Berlín. “-we’re awesome.” He finished and high-fived me.

“That’s why,” Profesor said to Nairobi.

2-0.

2-1. Moskù scored.

2-2. Nairobi served and Oslo scored.

3-2. Berlín and I scored.

4-2. Berlín served the ball. “Ace,” He chuckled in pride.

5-2. He aced again.

6-2. And again.

6-3. Profesor blocked.

6-4. Helsinki served, Nairobi attacked.

…

“14-14, this is the tie-breaker, people!” Said Denver.

While Tokyo got ready to serve, I looked at Berlín. The twinkle in his eyes made me see he was not going to lose this match. Tokyo served. Profesor dug, Denver forearm-passed. Nairobi set, Moskù attacked. Berlín set me the ball, and I jumped as high as I could, attacking forcefully. The ball fell into the other side.

“Set point!” Berlín laughed and our team cheered and celebrated as he scooped me up in his arms bridal style and spun me around. I yelped in surprise.

“A bit rusty, mis cojones, Varsòvia,” Nairobi laughed. “Good job.”

“Thank you,” I said, out of breath and slightly dizzy from the spinning.

…

That same day we were having dinner and another high school tradition came up: insulting each other without getting offended in the slightest.

We were talking about past relationships and Berlín addressed me. “So, Varsòvia, how has it been for you? You’ve become so beautiful, you must have spent the last twelve years reliving 1999.” He said, a cocky smirk on his face.

I wasn’t even bothered at the compliment as much as the use of the date. The table raised a chorus of “ooh”, “ahh” and wolf whistles.

“1999?” Denver questioned.

“It’s a figure of speech about how sexually promiscuous she was in that year.” Berlín explained and I looked at him, smirking back.

“Do you have a figure of speech for how jealous you were of the boys that came out of her room?” Profesor teased him, earning a louder chorus from the table.

“Well, I happen to have one for how sexually promiscuous you can both go be with yourselves.” I smiled sarcastically at the siblings and the others laughed.

“Touchè, Bambi.” Berlín replied.

…

I sat on a chair in the balcony, enjoying the late summer breeze. A knock on my door startled me.

“Come in.” The door opened and Berlín entered.

“Hey,” He said softly and approached me. He came up behind me and leaned down to rest his arms on my shoulders, his chin on top of my head.

“Hi,” I chuckled back, grabbing one of his hands and interlocking our fingers. “Why so affectionate, Berlín?”

“Why are you questioning it? You know you like it,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, I do.” I smiled at him and got up to give him a proper hug. I nuzzled my nose into his neck and sighed.

“I missed you. A lot more than you think.” I said. I felt his smile on my forehead.

“I missed you, too, sweetheart.” We held each other for a good minute before pulling away. “And I meant what I said before. You do look beautiful.” I blushed.

“Berlín…” I shook my head in denial.

“You do. I mean it. With all my heart.” He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear and rested his hand on my cheek. I placed my hand over his and leaned into his touch.

“If I ask you something, will you promise to be 100% honest with me?” I asked him.

“Of course.”

“Were you really jealous in 1999?” He broke eye contact, drawing in a sharp breath.

“Yes. Yes, I was.” I gazed at him sadly.

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t stand hearing about every single boy that came in and out of your bedroom while I had a massive crush on you.” He argued.

"You didn't have to, why didn't you just tell me?" I asked.

"And what were the chances of you saying 'yes'? I was a dumb teenager-"

"I was a dumb teenager too, hence why I might have accepted," I said playfully.

Berlín shook his head fondly and kissed me softly without warning. I kissed back immediately, smiling against his lips. When we pulled away I chuckled and blushed, while he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Te quiero muchísimo, Varsòvia."

"Yo también, Berlín."

[selene-writes]

Hellfire- Bloody Mary part 1

I am in the zone currently; I hope to post more later today :)

Chapter warnings include cursing and violence This is an 18+ fic

"Sam," Dean said urgently, shaking his brother awake. Sam jolted upright in the front seat, beads of sweat dotting his forehead. You glanced at him with concern from the back seat, while Dean exchanged a worried look with you.

"I take it I was having a nightmare?" Sam asked, first looking at Dean, then catching your gaze in the rearview mirror.

"Yeah, another one," you replied, your brow furrowed.

"I'm not the only one," Sam muttered, looking back at you. Your glare was met with a defensive look from Sam. "And at least I get sleep," he added pointedly, turning his attention to Dean.

"Sooner or later, we're gonna talk about this," Dean said firmly, meeting Sam's gaze. "Both of you," he added, looking back at you.

"Are we here?" Sam interjected, shifting the topic. You silently thanked him; you weren't ready to discuss your nightmares with either of them.

"Yup, welcome to Toledo, Ohio," you said, peering out the window. The hospital loomed nearby, where the victim's body was held, with an ambulance in the background.

"What do you think really happened to that guy?" Sam asked, pulling out the newspaper detailing the man's death.

"That's what we're gonna find out," Dean replied, tapping the steering wheel impatiently. "Let's go," he said, opening the car door. Sam and you followed suit, walking towards the brick building.

Arriving at the morgue, you entered a dimly lit office with a desk bearing a plaque reading 'Dr. D. Feiklowicz. Behind it sat a balding middle-aged man engrossed in a book.

"Hey," he said, looking up as you approached.

"Hey," you replied politely, standing with Dean and Sam in front of the desk.

"Can I help you?" the man asked, a touch of annoyance in his voice.

"Yeah, we're the med students," Dean explained, nodding towards the door. "Didn't Dr. Feiklowicz tell you?"

"Sorry?" The man looked confused.

"Oh, Dr. Feiklowicz didn’t mention it?" Dean continued, gesturing vaguely. "We spoke to him on the phone. We're from Ohio State, supposed to examine the Shoemaker body for our paper."

"Well, I'm sorry, he's at lunch," the man replied, looking between the three of you.

"Oh, well, um, it doesn't matter," you said, forcing a sweet smile. "You don't mind showing us the body, do you?" You noticed his eyes lingering on your chest and resisted the urge to slap him. Dean and Sam exchanged looks, clearly irritated at his ogling. 

"Sorry, I can't. Doc will be back in an hour," he stated firmly, meeting your gaze again. "You can wait for him if you want."

"An hour? Oh we have to head back to Columbus," Dean said, his voice tense.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, nodding beside you.

"This paper is half our grade. Could you please help us out?" Dean pressed, but the man remained stubborn.

"Look, man, no," he said definitively. You seethed silently, smiling and turning away.

"I swear to god, I'm gonna kick him in his—" you muttered angrily, but Sam interrupted, placing a hand on your shoulder. Dean continued to glare at the man.

Sam stepped forward, clearing his throat and forcing a smile. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out his wallet and placing several twenties on the desk. The man hesitated for a moment, then pocketed the money.

"Follow me," he said curtly, rising from his chair and leading the way. Sam was about to follow when Dean grabbed his arm.

"Dude, I earned that money," Dean protested, annoyed.

"You won it in a poker game," Sam shot back. You chuckled softly, watching the exchange between the brothers.

"Yeah," Dean muttered begrudgingly, nodding. Sam shook his head and walked after the man, with you trailing beside him and Dean following.

"I'm going to kill that douchebag if he looks at my tits again," you growled through gritted teeth.

"I know, he's a creep," Sam agreed quietly as you entered the next room. Dean's curses followed behind you.

"Maybe it's not ours, might be some freak medical accident," Sam pondered aloud as you descended the stairs, leaving the hospital. The Shoemaker's body had suffered liquefied eyes, and the doctor suspected a massive stroke or an aneurysm. After Sam paid the difficult man more money, he reluctantly shared the police report with you.

"When is it ever just some freak medical thing?" you retorted as you passed lab-coated men.

"Almost never," Sam sighed, trailing behind.

"Exactly," you nodded in agreement.

"Alright, let's go talk to the daughter," Dean said decisively, leading the way out the door.

"That's because it wasn’t a stroke!" Lily, the youngest daughter, exclaimed with a tremor in her voice. You had arrived at Mr. Shoemaker's house shortly after leaving the hospital. Donna, the elder daughter with short brown hair, was seated at a picnic table in the backyard, along with Lily and a blonde girl who seemed to be a close friend. They both looked weary, their eyes tinged with red.

"Lily, don't say that," Donna said gently, rubbing her sister's shoulder. Lily, her long brown hair framing her face, was visibly upset.

"No, it happened because of me!" Lily insisted, her distress evident. You exchanged a concerned look with Dean, who shrugged helplessly.

"Lily, why would you say something like that?" Sam asked softly, kneeling down to her eye level.

"Right before he died, I said it," Lily confessed, looking downcast.

"You said what?" you asked gently. She looked up at you, her brown eyes filled with sorrow.

"Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror," she replied. Sam raised an eyebrow, glancing at Dean and then at you. You remembered the urban legend from your own childhood in Sioux Falls.

"She took his eyes, that's what she does," Lily finished, looking earnestly at Sam.

"That's not why Dad died. This isn't your fault, Lily," Donna reassured her sister with a mix of concern and sadness.

"I think your sister's right, Lily. There's no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didnt say it did he?" Dean asked. Lily shifted her gaze shyly to him.

"No, I don't think so," Lily replied softly, shaking her head.

You offered your condolences once more before excusing yourselves to return to the house.

Deciding to investigate upstairs where Mr. Shoemaker had died, you hoped to uncover any paranormal signs. Walking down the hallway, the bathroom lay ahead to the right.

"I've always hated that legend," you muttered to the brothers.

"Why's that?" Sam asked, his gaze fixed ahead.

"Summon some chick anywhere, anytime, and she'll take your eyes? Yeah, no thanks," you replied dryly. Sam chuckled softly.

Approaching the bathroom door, which was slightly ajar, you stood in the doorway as Sam pushed it fully open, the hinges creaking. The bathroom, with its grey walls and white tiles, had mostly been cleaned of blood, but faint red stains still marked the floor.

"The Bloody Mary legend... Did Dad ever find any evidence it was real?" Sam asked, glancing at Dean. You looked up at Dean, waiting for his response.

"Not that I know of," Dean replied.

"What about Bobby?" Sam turned to you. You shook your head; Bobby Singer was meticulous—if there was any truth to the legend, he would have known.

“I mean everywhere else, all over the country, kids will play bloody mary, as far as we know nobody dies from it.” Sam said, kneeling to inspect the red stain on the floor.

"Everywhere else, it's just a story. But here, it's actually happening," Dean mused, staring out the bathroom window.

"The place where the legend began?" you asked, looking between the brothers.

"Maybe," Sam nodded. "But according to the legend, whoever says it—you know—dies. Here, Shoemaker gets it."

"Never heard of anything like that before. But the guy did die right in front of the mirror," you added, sighing and glancing at the brothers on either side of you.

"And according to the legend, you know who scratches your eyes out," Dean agreed, nodding thoughtfully. "It's worth looking into," he concluded.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed down the hall. You turned, exiting the bathroom with Sam and Dean close behind. Standing before you was the blonde girl from earlier, Donna's friend.

"What are you doing up here?" she demanded, suspicion evident in her voice.

"We, uh, had to use the bathroom," Dean replied, earning an eye roll from you.

"What?" he mouthed defensively.

"Who are you?" she pressed, crossing her arms.

"As we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad," Dean explained. She narrowed her eyes, clearly skeptical.

"He was a day trader or something. He worked alone," she countered.

"No, I meant—" Dean started.

"And those weird questions downstairs, what was that?" she interrupted, eyeing you suspiciously. "Tell me what's going on or I'll start screaming."

"Alright, alright," Sam interjected, holding his hands up. "We think something happened to Donna's dad."

" Yeag a stroke," she replied firmly, shaking her head.

"That's not the sign of a typical stroke," Sam insisted, meeting her gaze directly.

"We think it might be something else," you chimed in, stepping forward. She looked at you like you were insane.

"Like what?"

"Honestly, we don’t know yet," Sam admitted with a sigh. "But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth."

"If you're gonna scream, go right ahead," you challenged, staring her down. She hesitated, glancing between the three of you.

"Are you cops or something?" she finally asked. Sam, Dean, and you exchanged glances before turning back to her.

"Something like that," Dean replied smoothly.

"If you think of anything, or if your friends notice anything strange, call us," you said, taking out a piece of paper and jotting down your number. You handed it to her before walking past her towards the staircase.

"So... Library?" you suggested as you descended the stairs.

You arrived at the library to find all the computers out of order. After checking out a multitude of books, the titles of which earned you a few strange looks, you decided to find a motel to do some research. You got your own room, but currently sat in the brothers' room. Sam had fallen asleep almost right away, but started to make noises in his sleep after about twenty minutes. He finally woke up yelling “no!”

"We haven't found anything useful," you said, slamming the book you were reading shut in frustration.

"There must be something," Sam said, sitting up on the bed he was lying on.

"We’ve looked at everything," Dean sighed. "A few local women named Laura and Catherine committed suicide in front of a mirror, and a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave, but no mention of a Mary."

Sam groaned and fell back on the bed. "Maybe we just haven’t found it yet," he muttered.

"We've also been searching for strange deaths in the area—exploding eyeballs, weird stuff like that—but there's nothing," you said, exhaling and looking between the boys. "Maybe we’re dealing with something else, not Mary."

Dean nodded in agreement. Suddenly, you felt a buzzing in your pocket; your phone was ringing. You pulled it out and looked at the screen. It was an unfamiliar number. Sam and Dean glanced at you as you answered.

"Hello?" you asked tentatively, your eyebrows furrowing as you recognized the caller's voice and the reason behind the call.

You met Charlie, the blonde girl from earlier at the park. She was sitting on a picnic table, sobbing. Her friend, Jill, had been found dead with liquefied eyes, the same as Mr. Shoemaker.

“And they found her on the bathroom floor, and her... her eyes… they were gone,” Charlie finished, looking up at where you were standing, her eyes red and filled with tears.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said softly, his gaze sympathetic as he looked down at her.

“And she said it,” Charlie continued, wiping her nose. You exchanged glances with Dean and Sam.

“I heard her say it, but it couldn’t be because of that, it's insane, right?” Charlie's voice trembled.

“No, you’re not insane,” you reassured her, shaking your head.

“Oh god, that makes me feel so much worse,” tears streamed down Charlie's face.

“Look,” Sam interjected, glancing at Dean and then back at Charlie. “We think something unusual is happening here, something that can't be explained.”

“But if we’re going to stop it, we could use your help,” Dean added, his tone serious. Charlie looked up at him in confusion.

“I just said I needed some alone time, I hate lying to her,” Charlie said, after sneaking you into Jill's room to investigate.

“This is for the greater good,” you said, placing a comforting hand on Charlie's shoulder. “Hit the lights,” you instructed, and Dean closed the window as Charlie turned off the light switch, plunging the room into darkness. Sam grabbed a camera from your duffel bag of gear.

“What are you guys looking for?” Charlie asked nervously, eyeing the array of equipment.

“We don’t know yet. We’ll let you know as soon as we do,” Dean replied, focusing on the task.

“Hey, night vision,” Sam said, adjusting the camera. Dean and you moved closer to him, examining the equipment Sam was setting up.

“Do I look like Paris Hilton?” Dean jokes, turning his shoulder and posing. You chuckled, and Sam turned the camera away, scanning the room.

“So I don’t get it. The first victim didn’t summon Mary, and the second one did. How's she choosing them?” Sam asked, opening the closet door and scanning the insides with the camera, including the mirror on the door.

“Beats me,” Dean muttered, holding an E.M.F. meter out in front of him.

“Why did Jill say it in the first place?” you wondered aloud, looking back at Charlie as you examined Jill's belongings for any clues.

“It’s just a joke,” Charlie replied with a shrug.

“Someone's gonna say it again, it's just a matter of time,” Dean said grimly, joining you and Charlie.

“Hey!” Sam's voice called out from the bathroom. You and Dean turned simultaneously to face him.

“There's a black light in the trunk, right?” Sam asked.

Dean went to get the light as Sam and you carefully moved the mirror off the wall, placing it face down on Jill's bed. Dean tossed Sam the blacklight, which he caught smoothly, turning it on and hovering it over the back of the mirror. White handprints were plastered across the surface along with a name: Gary Bryman.

“Gary Bryman?” Charlie asked, peering down at the mirror.

“You know who that is?” you asked her, studying her reaction closely.

“No,” Charlie replied, shaking her head.

“Alright then, let’s find out,” Dean said decisively from beside you.

[andradrawsstuff]

Third chapter of my fic ✨

Uhhhhh, this is a bit of a long one lmao but I promise the story picks up the pace a little here

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 3: Fate is a funny thing, isn’t it?

The engine of the toy car buzzed as they sped down Jefferson Street, turning heads and almost causing a few car crashes along the way. The smell of salty sea air grew stronger the closer they drove to the shoreline. This smell was bliss to the birds. They do love fish, after all. The sky was a beautiful azure blue and the breeze was lovely in the scorching heat. Seagulls squawked and shouted profanities in the distance, circling tourists in hopes of snatching some food, and cars started to gather round the pier. They were here. They stood before pier 39 and the Aquarium of the Bay, admiring the grand infrastructure. Parking their car in the parking lot, they took up an entire slot for their miniature vehicle, which no doubt would have infuriated someone. But alas, they marched on.

“So, what exactly are we looking for, Kowalski?” Asked Private

He replied joyfully. “Uh… honestly, I’m not entirely sure!”

“You’re kidding?” Skipper chipped in.

Rico mumbled some sort of iteration of “Dear me…”

Ironically, Kowalski had spent so much time trying to find this thing, only to have no idea what it actually looks like. All he had to go off of was a tracker and some information Phil and Mason translated from the dark web in some library in Toledo. Very reliable. Either way, they made their way through the dark blue aquarium, dodging humans and trying to camouflage. They passed the bustling touchpools and entered the gallery, spotting a seemingly vacant habitat they could lay low in. Kowalski set up his tracker and attempted to figure out what it was showing.

“Are you sure that thing works properly?” Private commented.

Kowalski was offended. “Wh- of course it does! Why wouldn’t it?”

Private raised a brow. Kowalski got the message. As the two debated the efficiency of Kowalski’s inventions, Skipper noticed Rico who seemed on edge. He stepped closer, only to feel a growing presence lurking in the shadows. They exchanged a glance. Rico choked up a wooden bat and Skipper assumed a combat position. Soft, slow steps grew closer and closer, as the boys braced themselves for an ambush – the other two completely unaware and still continuing their discussion, until the shadow suddenly revealed itself.

“Hi!”

Skipper pounced onto the lurker, throwing question after question at them with such speed that they could be considered brute force.

“Hya! Yelled Skipper. “Who are you? What do you want? Who do you work for? Dave? Classified? The government of Denmark?” He aggressively interrogated and shook the lurker. “ANSWER ME, MAN!”

“WHAT? NO! WHO ARE YOU? LET ME GO, YOU ASSHAT!” Replied the figure.

The others stood in shock as they watched the events unfold in front of them. They froze, Private signalling for him to turn around. Skipper looked at the boys in confusion, still gripping the poor creature. He slowly turned to the victim in front of him, quietly scanning them. They had a long, sleek build and dark chestnut fur with an almond neck and marking on the right foot. He studied their face, attempting to profile the exact species. Front-facing eyes, round snout, pink nose and a little fang protruding from the mouth - but only one. Lutra lutra. In the grips of Skipper was a mere… Eurasian river otter. A TERRIFIED one, at that. It was Dublin all over again.

“Oh…” He painfully murmured. Skipper let go and looked back and forth at the boys, then the otter. He seemed to be re-evaluating his life choices in a flash.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, I LIVE HERE!” She yelled.

Skipper mustered up the courage to reply. “So… you’re not here to take the thingy?”

The otter was as confused as ever. “What thingy? I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She panicked.

Skipper realised his mistake – he just attacked an innocent civilian.

“Shit.”

Kowalski explained that they were looking for a special “element”, keeping most details to a minimum. He showed the otter his tracker and explained what they were looking for was somewhere in this aquarium, hoping to clear up the misunderstanding. She looked confused, but offered some advice.

“Okay, I have no idea who you guys are,” She stated. “But in hopes of you leaving me alone, I will say that down the hall, there is a dolphin.” They listened intently. “A mad scientist dolphin, if you will. Your thing seems pretty sciency, so go ask that guy instead.”

“Much obliged.” Skipper awkwardly saluted.

Private apologised for his brother’s behaviour. “Sorry about Skippa,” He uttered. “He can get a little… paranoid.”

The otter rolled her eyes as they left one by one, only to chip in with a word of advice. “Oh, hey, wait up!” They paused and turned to her. “If you guys see another otter there, just be careful. He gets a little… snackish.” She urged. Ha, that won’t be a problem for the boys, though. They’re the elitest of the elite. They confidently marched on to continue their quest.

As they closed in on the entrance to the dolphin habitat, an eerie emptiness filled the atmosphere. No fish, no animals, just a tank full of dull plastic coral with paint chipping off and a hilariously fake volcano. Whoever lived here must be miserable. Despite the huge size of the tank, no one could have a good quality of life in here. It was too depressing. The silence seemed to echo on forever too. Was that otter sure someone actually lived here? Even a mad scientist needs some sort of liveable space in their life, and this was not it. Either way, this had to be it. Kowalski’s tracker was the only thing to break the silence, pinging louder than ever before. The core was here… but finding it would be a challenge.

Skipper took a plunge into the water. Kowalski gave his tracker to Rico who swallowed it for safekeeping, and the rest of the penguins followed their leader. They swam around scanning for something. Nothing. This place was as empty as the Atacama desert. They almost gave up hope until they saw something hidden behind the fake volcano. It looked like… a cave entrance? It was odd, but they closed in on it. They paused and exchanged glances. They pressed on, only to surface inside the fake volcano. After glancing around, they saw that it was so much more alive than outside. Screens built across the walls, different contraptions thrown around, test tubes with multicolour liquids decorating the entire space, and lobsters everywhere. Is this where everyone went? Either way, this was obviously some sort of secret lair.

Rico started mumbling incoherently, pointing towards his belly which was vibrating vigorously.

“The tracker!” Kowalski remembered. “We must be really close!”

The sound of tires echoed around the room, as a squeaky voice called out. “Otto! Get down here, look what I’ve found!”

The penguins quickly dipped behind a rock to conceal themselves. The sound of tires grew louder and a huge menacing shadow blocked the only light source. This must have been him. That mad scientist. The penguins quietly observed the aquatic mammal as he seemed to be riding some sort of segway. It looked a little ridiculous, to say the least. Whilst the others were peering at the segway, Kowalski spotted something he was holding.

“That’s it!” Kowalski shouted quietly. “That’s the core!”

Skipper wasn’t fully convinced. “Are you sure? It just looks like a metal ball…”

“Yes!!” He exclaimed. “It’s what’s inside that’s important. I’d recognise a radioactive container anywhere, and let me tell you… that is it.”

Private chipped in. “Okay, but how do we get it?” He was asking the real questions. “It’s not like we can just waltz in and take it!”

A wide grin stretched across Skipper’s face. “Maybe we can…”

Uh oh. The others could feel another one of those elaborate Skipper schemes coming along. There was a difference between their leader’s plans, though. There were the meticulous and elaborate schemes, and then there were the loud and impulsive schemes. The three grew concerned, as Skipper’s grin only widened as he scanned his surroundings. This plan, seemed to be the latter. But little did they know that this split-second decision would determine their future for many years to come.

“Rico,” Skipper ordered. “We’re gonna need some grappling hooks.”

Rico wasn’t as concerned as the other two. He thrived off impulsivity and chaos. If one person was up for the task without a fuss, it was Rico. He barfed out some sticks of dynamite in sheer excitement and asked the legendary question.

“K-kaboom?” His mouth watered as he turned to skipper, practically twitching.

“Yes, Rico. Kaboom.”

Kowalski and Private exchanged a concerned glance.

“Take a stick of dynamite or two.” Skipper commanded as he handed out the explosives to his team. “We’ll split up, one in each corner of the room, and set them off one by one.” He continued. “Kowalski, you take the top right. Rico, bottom right. Private, bottom left. And I… top left.”

Private questioned Skipper’s plan. “Skippa, what exactly are we trying to do? I don’t see how this has anything to do with taking the core-thingy…”

Kowalski chipped in. “A distraction.” It finally clicked.

“Bingo.” Uttered Skipper

Rico was practically vibrating at this point. He couldn’t wait much longer. “K-kaboom… ka…BOOM! HAHAHA, KABOOM!!”

Skipper ordered them to split up before things went awry. They slid over to their respective corners, and planted their explosives, waiting for Skipper’s signal. Kowalski studied his surroundings, unable to help the slight feelings of jealousy taking over. This place was decked with cool gadgets and fancy tools. Everything looked so professional. “Why do the bad guys always get the good stuff?” he thought. He had to stop and remind himself of his task at hand – creating a distraction.

Skipper placed the last stick of dynamite and scanned the colourful room. He pointed to Rico, who was eagerly awaiting his signal. It was kaboom time. Rico coughed up a lighter and lit the explosives, quickly grappling away. It was showtime. The dolphin was driving around his lair, holding what the boys presumed to be the core. He paused for a moment, admiring himself in the shiny silver reflection of the metal orb. He grinned. He then pressed a purple button on his segway, when out of nowhere – KABOOM!

“WHAT THE-“ He steadied himself, processing what just happened. “Charlie!” he shouted for his lobster henchman. “What the hell was that?”

The lobster was unable to speak before another BANG could be heard, only now in the top right of the room. The dolphin sent more lobsters to investigate both sites of explosion. But before they could reach, a third KABOOM shook them. This was strange, he thought. How could all of his inventions suddenly set off and explode in one go? He was sure they were all wired correctly and that no water had come into contact with them. And finally, the last KABOOM echoed from the top left. The commotion seemed to catch the attention of another resident of the secret lair, one that the boys were warned about – a large, caramel-brown North American river otter with a sandy neck, sleek build and pointy black nose. He was just as confused as the dolphin.

“What… is going on here?” He asked urgently with a husky, gravelly voice and arms flailing up and down. “What did you do?”

“What do you mean, ‘what did I do?’ Do you really think that I would BLOW UP MY OWN PLACE, OTTO?” The mad scientist yelled back.

Admittedly, this did seem a bit extra. Perhaps two explosions would have been enough to create the same desired effect, but alas, these were the penguins after all. “Extra” was their middle name. They witnessed the argument taking place between the two aquatic mammals, all whilst the core was still in the dolphin’s flippers. Skipper saw the window of opportunity, and went straight for it. His grappling hook shot towards a crevice in the ceiling, latching on securely. He tugged it to ensure it was safe, and he swung towards the clueless dolphin. A ‘clunk’ was heard as his flipper smacked the hollow metal container, sweeping it from the dolphin’s grasp like the wind.

“Yoink!” He shouted cheekily.

“WHAT THE-“ Exclaimed the dolphin in sheer bewilderment.

“Thank you for your service!” Skipper winked, with swagger in his stance.

The dolphin was at a loss for words, struggling to form a sentence that was urgent enough. “Wh- but my… oh, for the love of- GET THEM!!” He pointed.

Skipper swung over to Private, passing the orb over to him. Still swinging, he shouted to his brother. “Rico, Boston us!”

“Wahoo!!” He squealed. He choked up some sort of MP3 player and fiddled with it for a few seconds.

The room was utter chaos. Penguins swinging all over the place, lobsters running around aimlessly, and the dolphin and the otter frozen in complete disbelief. Nothing could get worse, they thought. Until…

“It’s more than a feeling!”

Now, nothing could get worse. The lobsters resorted to stacking themselves in order to reach those pesky birds, which pushed them to swing around even more aimlessly, destroying an array of things in the process. As the lobsters reached to reclaim the core, the penguins passed it to each other like it was a game of hot potato. The scene turned from chaos to pandemonium. What little remnants of order that were there had been completely eradicated. Rico coughed up more dynamite to throw around, and Private created piles of knocked-out lobsters. Skipper swung around carefree with a flipper reaching out, smashing every last test tube. All while Kowalski tip-toed his way out with the orb, as instructed by Skipper when they claimed it. This was the real distraction. By the time he reached the exit, the whole lair was in complete disarray, not a single ounce of peace in sight. He waved to the rest of the team, who swiftly made their way over. The dolphin spotted the small thief and grew enraged.

“No one steals from me, especially not some two-bit, teeny-weeny birds like you!!” He roared.

“Hehe! Sorry to burst your bubble, Mr Ocean Man, but…” Skipper replied arrogantly.

It was too late. They already reached the exit, loosening some rubble to block the exit. All he could do was watch as they swam away with his precious orb containing his all-powerful elemental core. All the dolphin could feel was fury. No… fury and a thirst for vengeance.

“Urgh! My name is Doctor Blowhole… and you will RUE this day, I swear to you, pengu-ins!!”

The four rushed to the surface, jumping out and hopping their way through the aquarium towards the exit. They reached the parking lot and sprung into their car which was still taking up an entire parking space. They placed the orb in the middle back seat like it was a living being. Of course, they had to stop for a mandatory hi-one session.

“Good work, boys.” Praised Skipper. “Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

“And never return?” Hoped Private.

“Agreed.” Added the other three.

[nonclassyparty]

Starring Role - ACT V (C.S; S.MG)

title; you make me feel like i’m losin’ my virginity, the first time, every time when you’re touching me

summary:

We’ve all read about the infamous player who falls in love with the good girl that manages to make him change his ways…but what happens to the other girl? The pretty, popular one that has warmed his bed before the good girl came along and took him away.

Well, no one cares about her. After all, she’s just a side character.

It almost feels like a joke to play a part, when you are not the starring role in someone else’s heart.

pairing: choi san x reader, song mingi x reader (for now lol)

warnings: smut!!, mentions of dieting

wc: almost 14k

taglist:   @joonsthethicc @marievllr-abg @cookiechristie @purenjuniverse  @hwaist @littleparkseonghwa @hwasong @hwadump @hongshines @kitty4hwa @knisterlicht @flamingi @revehosh @gayliljoong @naiify     @btshook @atzcoke  @circusjanreblogs @baguette-atiny @kpopnightingale @xosim @raineadlr @ilikepalta @m4rsluv @gojocatt @smimingi @bubbleteakittyy  @mingkiyoo @theactresstarringinurbadreams  @mangishii @cryingaboutskz @y2ksturniolo   @layzfeelit  

buy me a coffee!

act iv / masterlist / act vi

A/N: smut is in italics for this part, there are a couple of more smut scenes but they’re really brief with as little descriptions as possible so i didn’t place a warning for those!

"It's more like every electron in every atom in the universe paused, breathed in deeply, assessed the situation, and then reversed its course, spinning backward, or the other way, which was the right way all along. And afterward, the universe was exactly the same, but infinitely more right."

-Lydia Netzer, How to Tell Toledo from the Night Sky

"We should, uh," He stutters out, breath raggedy, "continue having those lessons."

"We should go for a coff- Oh, hey Mingi!" Hongjoong interrupts his sentence as he spots the newcomer that pulls out a chair next to him and places his backpack in front of the spot on the table.

"Y/N, as I was saying, we should go for a coffee after this. I have a study group at eight and I'm gonna need some caffeine to-"

But you're not listening to a single word leaving Hongjoong's lips as your attention is completely devoted to Song Mingi unpacking his things in the seat opposite of you without a care in the world. You haven't seen him since Saturday.

That Saturday.

Mingi stumbles out of the closet, dragging you out after him with his lips not leaving yours once. You're touching and grabbing, hands tugging on hair, teeth clashing and gasps leaving both of you.

You don't even notice that you're moving until your back is pressed against the door of his bedroom as he grips your jaw, licking into your mouth as you pull him closer with a desperate groan. There's that familiar feeling pulsing through you, the need to have him as close as possible without any barriers between the two of you and you subtly grind down on his thigh that was wedged between your legs.

The sound of a lock turning makes you disconnect from him and you turn your head to the side, where his hand rested on the lock of the door right by your hip. Mingi breathes heavily.

"Is that okay?" He whispers nose brushing yours, probably wanting to know how far you plan on taking this tonight.

You just pull his mouth back on yours and hope he gets his answer from that which he does, as he starts guiding you to the bed and with a couple of adjustments- you're in his lap.

"Hellooooo? Y/N?" Hongjoong's voice drags you out of the memories and your head snaps to him with wide eyes.

"Y-yeah!" You respond, internally cringing at how high pitched your voice had gotten. "Sounds good."

Hongjoong gives you a weird look before shaking his head and going back to his books. Your eyes subconsciously dart to Mingi and a zapping feeling runs through you when your gazes meet.

Mingi's face is otherwise blank but his eyes dance with mirth and you swear that the corner of his lips lift up for a split second before he licks them and goes back to opening his laptop and organizing his notes.

You shift in your seat, feeling a little too hot as you try to focus on the textbook in front of you with pursued lips.

"Wanna try to make a simple program by yourself today?" If there wasn't the silence that followed after Mingi's question, you wouldn't have guessed it was aimed at you with just how high up in the clouds you were.

"Wanna take this off?" He murmurs the question as his fingers run over the buttons of your cropped cardigan and end up playing with the top one, his fingers brushing over the skin of your chest in the process. Mingi's eyes are observing your face, waiting for an answer but you're already too lost to form a coherent thought.

"Uh-huh." You nod like a dumbass and his lips quirk up slightly as his lips connect with yours again and fingers nimbly start to undo each button until the cardigan is slipping down your shoulders and leaving you in your bra.

Mingi's lips part from yours and a gasp leaves you shortly afterwards as his lips start kissing down your neck and his hands grasp your hips tighter at that as you start rubbing against him. He is hard underneath you.

A small groan of his own erupts from his chest and he flips the both of you, so you're laying on the bed with him between your legs.

He swiftly connects your lips again. Both of your lips are puffy and red by now but you don't care. You like that Mingi seems to like kissing you. His warm hands trail down your body again until they reach your boots and he sits up, hands fiddling with the zipper on one of them before he pulls the shoes off. He repeats it on your other leg as well.

"Cute." He mutters with a small smirk, thumb rubbing the inside of your ankle where your socks had Hello Kitty on them. Your cheeks burn a deeper red, you would say something snippy to him but you're just too far gone and only thing you can think about is him and what he could do to you.

His hands gloss over your body again. Up your legs and gripping your hips before he glances at you with dark eyes. You let out an impatient puff of air.

Mingi pulls at the collar of his sweater and tugs it off of himself in one swift move, throwing it to the chair by his desk. Your eyes drunkenly soak up his naked chest. Broad shoulders, slim waist and thick thighs still covered in jeans. Your mouth waters at the sight of his toned torso.

His warm hands glide up your thighs and disappear under your miniskirt, latching onto the elastic band of your panties.

"Let's take these off as well." He whispers, small grin rising on his plump lips as he starts slowly dragging the flimsy material down your legs.

"Y/N?" Mingi's voice snaps your head up and you're faced with both Mingi and Hongjoong staring at you.

"Oh, uh...Sorry, w-what did you say?" You stutter out, swallowing as you blink repeatedly to get your thoughts in check.

Hongjoong looks positively weirded out now, looking at you with a scrunched up face. Mingi, on the other hand, seems to be able to read your mind and looks like he's trying to hold back a smirk which makes sweat collect at the back of your neck as a shaky breath escapes you.

"I asked if you wanted to try to make a program by yourself today. It will be one of your tasks at the exam." He elaborates easily, eyes dancing over your features in amusement and it makes you press your lips in annoyance. Not at him, but at yourself. Why were you acting like a school girl that just lost her virginity to this guy?

"Okay." You nod simply, reaching for your laptop and setting it up in front of yourself. Hongjoong returns to his own work and so does Mingi.

As you wait for it to turn on, you glance at Mingi again. His eyes are trained on his laptop, lower lip tucked between his teeth and a pen dangling off of his fingers. Thoughts of his fingers on your lips flood your mind. What is wrong with you? You can't possibly be this horny.

Suddenly, his fingers tap against his notebook two times and your eyes snap to his.

He's looking back at you with a grin that he can't seem to hide now and your cheeks flush red but you don't break the eye contact. It was a bit of a public fact now that, when it comes to men who know how to make you come, you have very little shame.

Mingi coughs, covering up the smile on his lips with his hand before clearing his throat and handing you a paper. Hongjoong is cluelessly highlighting something in his textbook.

"Here, try this one." Mingi says lowly, gesturing to the paper where the task was printed out and you only nod in response, hiding your face behind your laptop.

You start typing across the keyboard but soon enough, your fingers slow down and you find yourself mindlessly staring into the open program, images of last Saturday plaguing your mind and you try your hardest not to look up towards Mingi again.

"Mingi-..." Hongjoong continues talking to Mingi and the more he speaks, the deeper you get lost into your head.

"Mingi." You gasp out, fisting the sheets on his bed in your hands as a means of stopping yourself from being too loud.

Mingi's response is only a chuckle which vibrates through your body as he indulges in the heat between your legs as he pleases.

Your skirt is hiked up to your waist and his hands are wrapped around your thighs to hold them spread out in their place as his mouth explores your cunt until tears are brimming the corners of your eyes.

It's slow and sensual and there's a strange level of intimacy to it that makes giddiness dance up and down your body as your hand reaches down and brushes through his hair.

It was only a couple of days ago that you were cursing Mingi out in your head and now his face was buried between your legs as he gave you what felt like the best head you've gotten in awhile.

Who would've thought.

"Oh, fuck..." You whimper out, still cautious about the volume of your voice despite Mingi's words of reassurance. 'They're all drunk and downstairs by now. You can be louder.'

But you can't bring yourself to completely rely on them so instead, you bite your bottom lip and try to muffle the moans as he suckles on your clit before dragging his hot tongue over it in a motion that makes your legs shake.

It's dizzying. And hot. You can't be bothered to think about anything outside of what was happening in the space of these four walls.

At a particular twirl of Mingi's tongue, your back arches and mouth drops open as another moan escapes and you think, yeah, you won't regret this at all.

"Fuck, you're hot." Mingi mutters against you before his tongue dips inside of you and is slowly dragged back to your clit and it makes your legs shake around his head, he notices and soothes his palm over your thigh.

"I'm gonna-...Gonna come if y-you don't stop..." You brokenly whisper out and Mingi glances up to you. Fuck, he looks good between your legs.

"That's the goal." He whispers and you only moan in response as brings his tongue down onto you again.

How is Song Mingi so good at eating pussy?!

You had almost hoped that he would suck, just so when it's all over you can go back to being mean to him. But you don't think that's going to be possible because, of course, he has to be a god between the sheets in every way imaginable. You can't remember when was the last time you felt this good.

San gave you everything and so much more but for a limited time period. The sex was mind-blowing but only for the first couple of weeks, after that it felt like the pussy magic wore off or something because he gave you mediocre orgasms with half-hearted oral- with the exception of the times he would fuck up and try to get in your good graces again.

But Mingi eats you out to the point where it seems like he's getting off to your moans and to your very taste.

He works his tongue and lips against you, trying to amplify your pleasure and make you feel as good as possible. It works, and you're sent flying into an earth-shattering orgasm that makes your toes curl and your back arc off of the bed as a high pitched moan leaves you.

It feels like liquid fire is eating you up from the inside out, and your orgasm lasts a lifetime. Mingi doesn't falter for one second, diligently dragging out your pleasure with his tongue, even as you quiver and thrash under his grip.

It takes another long moment for your orgasm to run its course, then you abruptly collapse onto the mattress with a deep groan, drenched in sweat and feeling utterly boneless. Only then does Mingi finally let up on his ministrations.

"Fuck, that was so hot." He mutters as he sloppily licks the come from his lips.

"You-..." Your words trail off as you try to catch your breath and wait for the rapid beating of your heart to slow down.

"-all red in the face. Are you feeling sick?" Your head snaps to Hongjoong, meeting his concerned gaze and it's only then that you feel the hotness of your cheeks.

"Huh?"

"What is going on with you today? You're redder than a fire hydrant." Hongjoong comments with a frown and your cool hands reach up to cover your flaming cheeks as you shake your head. You make the cardinal mistake of glancing in Mingi's direction, just to see his gaze trained on the laptop screen but his lips pulled in a small, annoying smirk.

"Nothing." You respond, fanning your face. "Just remembered something my professor told me, so now I'm stressed out over it."

"Seriously, you need to quit worrying." Hongjoong, the ever so sweet and kind friend, continues and you don't have the heart to stop him. Especially, when he's blowing compliments up your ass. "You're too good of an artist, you won't even need all the theory behind it. I, on the other hand, should go to the third floor and cry my eyes out before this study group today."

"Joong, stop." You whine softly and don't notice the way his eyes soften at the use of the nickname. "Let's not talk about school stuff for the day."

"I agree!" He quips, "Let's talk about last Saturday!"

You stiffen at that, casting a glance towards Mingi who doesn't take his gaze away from his laptop and pretends like neither you nor Hongjoong are speaking. Did Mingi tell Hongjoong what happened? You both specifically agreed to not tell anyone-

"What about last Saturday?" You carefully ask, straightening out in your seat. A habit of yours when you're feeling nervous.

"I must've passed out in the pantry under the staircase the moment the hide and seek game began. Minho made those sangrias way too strong." Hongjoong laughs without a care in the world but from the corner of your eye, you see Mingi glance at him with a guarded expression, "Did you enjoy the party? I hope my friends weren't too much, they can be annoying when they get drunk."

Oh, you enjoyed the party alright.

"Says you." Mingi snorts, lips curled up but not taking his attention away from his work. "You were drunk before she even got there."

Warmth pools in your belly again.

"It was awhile since we had a hang-out. I needed to blow off some steam!" Hongjoong defends himself and both you and Mingi chuckle.

"I had fun." You say with a small smile, trying to seem relaxed as possible.

Your eyes dart towards Mingi for a split second and a shiver runs up your spine when you find him already looking at you. His eyes aren't as hollow as they usually are when he speaks to you, they have a glint of playfulness now. Hongjoong clears his throat and your eyes snap towards him immediately.

"Did I do anything stupid? I can't remember shit!"

"You didn't do anything stupid, Joong." It's Mingi who reassures him, probably because he noticed you were sweating bullets.

You were usually an expert of a liar, but recently, it's almost as if you were trying to be a good and honest person or something so it was getting a little bit too difficult to spew lies from the top of your head.

So here you were, blushing and sweating over a measly lie, like an amateur. How humiliating.

"Oh, good." Hongjoong nods before opening his mouth again, "So when did the party end?"

"At midnight."

"Around three."

You and Mingi lock eyes across the table as a moment of silence ensues. You almost glare at him.

"I mean, I went home around midnight because I told my parents I wouldn't be home late. We had a brunch scheduled for the next day and I couldn’t show up looking hungover." You quickly fix your previous answer and hope the mention of the brunch would steer him in a different direction so you could stop talking about the party.

Hongjoong cocks his head to the side in thought, his books long forgotten by his side.

"Really? I swear the sound of a car going down the driveway woke me up for a second and that was at like...almost dawn. I thought it was yours since you're the only one who drove." He says and your mouth runs dry as you gulp. Mingi shuffles in his seat.

"It must've been a dream. You were pretty drunk and I left hours before dawn." You let out an awkward giggle and Hongjoong doesn't seem to buy it because even Mingi is starting to get a little restless in the seat next to him.

He glances between the two of you.

"Nothing weird happened, right?" Hongjoong questions warily to the both of you.

Your eyes lock with Mingi's.

The thing that surprises you the most with Song Mingi is that you didn't expect the sex to be like this.

And yeah, Mingi is a decent guy from what you've gathered but that doesn't really mean that he's good in bed. He's still a college boy.

You expected him to be quick with it. You expected it to be rushed and clumsy, dirty and empty.

But as always, Song Mingi has a tendency to prove you wrong.

"Oh." You sigh out as his lips cascade down the skin of your neck while his hands fiddle with the clasp of your bra. His naked torso is flush against yours as his fingers brush your back and it all makes you feel warm and so safe that you could melt.

The moment the clasp comes undone, the flimsy piece of fabric is thrown to the floor.

You don't waste any time, you sit up and your hands immediately reaching for the button of his dark jeans. Mingi's lips brush against your temple, one hand still around your body as he reaches to the nightstand for a condom.

"Give me." You whisper, taking the foil from him and ripping it with your teeth while he rids himself of his jeans and underwear.

God, he's so fucking thick. You don't even hide the fact that you eye him up and you swear, you see a faint blush coat his cheeks.

Mingi hisses a little bit as you roll the condom onto him and you mindlessly kiss up his chest while you make sure it's placed properly.

"Lay back." He whispers against your lips, nose brushing yours and you lower yourself back to his sheets and spread your legs apart. Your skirt is still on but he doesn't seem to mind, in fact you think he likes it a little too much.

Now, you expected him to just ram into you a couple of times until he comes with absolutely no rhythm to it whatsoever- you expect that from all college boys.

San excluded because San is San. His expertise is fucking.

Mingi is an IT major that's in love with his best friend, excuse you for not expecting much from him.

But no, Mingi is smooth with it.

Dragging his hands up the back of your thighs before placing them over his own thick thighs and then easing himself into you with a sigh that makes you throw your head back as he stretches you out. There's a pleasant burn that makes you let out a soft moan and you allow your arms to fall above your head as you grip the pillow situated under your head.

"Fuck." He bites his lip, one hand resting on your hip as the other grips the belt of your skirt tightly and uses it to guide you onto his dick.

"That's so good." You murmur brokenly, jaw dropping a little as he brushes against your sensitive spot and a hitched moan leaves you.

"There?" Mingi mutters and you can only nod in response, pulling him by the nape of his neck down to you and pressing his lips to yours.

You whine while his tongue brushes yours and his hips start to pick up speed until he's grasping you tightly as your hips meet.

The room is filled with muffled groans and moans, lewd noises from bodies being connected together and the occasional creak of his bed.

Mingi pants against your neck, one hand absentmindedly cupping your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek as you arch against him in pure bliss. You stopped caring about how loud you were halfway through and let the moans fall unabashedly as he fucked you like there was no tomorrow.

At a particularly hard thrust, you clench around him without even meaning to and he groans lowly, giving you a slight albeit playful glare.

"Y/N," He pants, "Don't do that."

You grin because you somehow live to piss him off and repeat the action, only this time it's with full intent. Mingi let's out a choked groan again, the hand that was on your cheek reaching back to grab at your hair.

"Always such a brat." He mutters, snapping his hips against yours and it makes you moan, eyes fluttering shut. "Can you be a good girl for me?"

And somehow, the question makes you melt. It makes you melt so much that you almost sink into the mattress below you, feeling like everything is about to swallow you whole and of course, none of that goes unnoticed by Mingi.

"Oh?" He whispers, lips fluttering over your jawline and your eyes are closed but you can feel him smile against your skin. "You like that?"

"S-shut up." You stutter out, nails digging into his skin at the fluid movements of his hips against yours. Mingi only hums against you, still placing butterfly kisses over your skin.

"You like being called a good girl, huh?" And he's just fucking with you now, you know that. But his words and the playfulness he delivers them with as he continues to kiss up the side of your neck makes you a gooey puddle in his arms. You can only moan and whine in response.

"Faster. Pl-please." You whine as your legs go high up his waist and he quickly listens to your pleads, picking up pace as he observes your face with his lips parted and heavy breaths.

"Like this?" He pants, the smacks echo through his bedroom and you moan loudly, toes curling.

"Yes! Yes, don't s-stop!" You almost sob as you pull him closer to you.

Your orgasm is close. The build up is there and you're about to burst at any given moment as Mingi continues with his tempo, brushing against your sensitive spot as his face falls in the crook of your neck.

You moans get higher with each thrust as you grow closer and closer to your release and Mingi's own groans are muffled but they're there.

"You gonna come for me?" He asks with a hoarse voice against your skin and you moan loudly in response.

The build up drags on and it snaps inside of you like a rubber band and you're tumbling off of the cliff into complete and utter bliss as you arch your back with the loudest moan yet leaving your open lips, toes curling and orgasm washing over you until you're shaking in Mingi's arms.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, Y/N." He grunts out as the pace of his hips grows erratic and you whine in sensitivity.

It takes him a couple more thrusts before he's filling up the condom with a low moan, fingers gripping tightly at your hips as his own stutter against you while he rides out his high and you both fall to the sheets, utterly exhausted.

"We should, uh," He stutters out, breath raggedy, "continue having those lessons."

"No."

"Nope."

Hongjoong's head keeps going back and forth as he stares at you both suspiciously before rolling his eyes.

"Fine. I'll say I believe you even though I know what my eyes saw which was you two being weird as fuck right now." He dramatically points to both of you and you only give a half hearted shake of your head in response.

"Nothing weird happened. The party was fun, thanks for inviting me." You say with a small but sincere smile and Hongjoong groans, turning to Mingi who looks at him in question with brows raised.

"See, that's how she gets you." He complains like you're not sitting right in front of him, your jaw drops a little. "Can't even be a bitch to her when she acts sweet."

You roll your eyes and Mingi gives him a small laugh.

"I'm going to the bathroom and then we can go get that coffee, Y/N." He looks between you and Mingi again with a joking glare, "Not like you two are doing anything productive, Mingi has been scrolling through his assignment sheets for the past five minutes."

Mingi turns to tell him off but Hongjoong is already out of his seat and walking away.

You massage your lips together to keep the smile from forming until Mingi's eyes set on you once you're all alone.

"You have nothing to laugh about." He scolds quietly, blush overtaking his cheeks. "You know for someone who was very strict on keeping this between us, you are extremely bad at hiding it."

"Hey!" You whine, pout etching on your lips, "I got nervous."

Mingi hums in response, tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he stares at you.

"You could've just stayed the night." Mingi says as he shudders in the cold, the hoodie he threw on himself before leaving his room doing very little at protecting him from the winter air.

"So Hongjoong can find me naked in his best friend's bed in the morning." You scoff with a small grin as you lean against your car, "No way."

"Well, I mean, you wouldn't have to be naked." Mingi shrugs with a small grin and you roll your eyes, pushing at his chest a little but it doesn't stop him from wrapping his arms around your waist.

It was weird. All the tension between Mingi and you seemed to have dissipated just by having sex with him. At least you think it did, it might just be the post-sex daze that both of you were still in. It was probably that because why in the hell would the two of you be this touchy otherwise?

"I have a thing with my family in the morning so I have to be up early." You explain quietly, you don't know why but the thought of him wanting you to stay made you feel all soft and mushy inside so you felt the need to elaborate why you were leaving.

You didn't owe Song Mingi anything after having sex once but it was a nice change that he wanted you to stay.

He nods and then his face turns serious, a little bit shy and...nervous.

"Hey, so, uh..." He starts and you cock your head to the side, eyes glossing over his face in curiosity. "About what I said the other day. About the math thing."

Your face immediately falls at that before you can even hide it. Mingi's hands tighten around your waist.

"I'm sorry." He blurts out and you raise your eyebrows in surprise. "I googled it after you left. You have a fucking Wikipedia page, Y/N."

He chuckles in what looks like disbelief at the fact that, yes, you do have a Wikipedia page, shaking his head a little, "I'm sorry for saying all of that. I was being an asshole. And...it's an amazing accomplishment."

"It's fine." You chuckle awkwardly, not expecting the apology whatsoever since you were mostly used to it by now.

"Still..."

"It's fine." You say a bit firmer the second time, a smile settling on your lips.

You both stare at each other, smiles slowly slipping and your fingers tighten around the soft material of his hoodie before you pull him towards you again, slotting his lips against yours.

Mingi grunts, cold hand reaching up and cupping the back of your neck as he presses you against the car door. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip and you part your lips so you can taste him, hands getting lost in his messy hair as you moan against him a little.

"My car has a really spacious back seat." You breathe out once your lips part.

"Fuck off." He laughs, squeezing at your waist. He heaves a sigh before a curse leaves his lips and he smashes his mouth against yours again.

It's hot and wanton but you can't get enough of each other and he has to push you away as he takes a step back because otherwise- you really would've ended up in the backseat of your car.

"We can't tell anyone about this." You whisper against his lips, moaning as he kisses you again, hand travelling to your backside.

"That's probably a good idea." He agrees.

The staring contest is cut off by Hongjoong's return from the bathroom.

"Y/n, come on, let's go." He says pulling his jacket on and packs his stuff. "I'm craving a bitter coffee and a muffin."

"I'll be ready in, like, a minute." You respond, quickly starting to pack your staff as he says he'll wait for you outside.

You slowly pull on your coat, watching Hongjoong leave through the door before turning to Mingi.

"Come to my place tomorrow." You say quietly with a coy smile before getting up and leaving, giving him no chance to respond.

You'll be honest right now. When it comes to Song Mingi, you sincerely have no idea what the fuck you are doing. Let alone why you want to do it again.

But you do. You want a repeat of last Saturday so bad to the point that you sit daydreaming about it during a particularly boring class until your underwear is soaked that it's borderline embarrassing.

You think of his big hands, fingers adorned by silver rings, on your naked skin. You think of his lips on yours. You think of the way his hair feels brushing against your thigh. You think of him buried deep inside of you. You think of his deep voice muttering in your ear. You think of him.

Song Mingi has you dickmatized.

That's why when he comes over the next day, you almost jump on him at your front door.

"Wow, your house is- oof!" Mingi's words are cut off as you pull him inside by the collar of his jacket and slam the door shut behind him before pressing his body into the wall with all the weight of your body and pressing your lips against his in a feverish kiss that makes you whine because you had no idea that you needed to kiss him this badly.

"Wow." He mumbles before quickly kissing you again, hands groping your ass through your sweatpants as yours roam over his firm chest.

"Let's go." You pant, pulling on his hand to lead him up the stairs.

"Aren't your parents home?" He asks with comically wide eyes as he follows after you and you shake your head.

"They're in Japan with my brother for the weekend. I sent the staff home as well."

"Where are we going?" Mingi questions, ogling the paintings hung up on the stairwell wall.

"To my bedroom." You slow down once you notice him staring at the paintings, "I'll give you a tour later, come on!"

You stumble into your bedroom and you quickly throw yourself on him, lips glued together as you lead him to the bed and drag him on top of you. You enjoy feeling the weight of his body on you a little bit too much.

"Y/N, slow down." Mingi laughs against your lips but kisses you nonetheless and you whine again, hips already working against his.

"I can't." You whine pathetically, kissing him messily as your nails scratch against the fabric of his sweatshirt on his back.

"Okay, okay." He whispers comfortingly with a small smile and you don't even care about your red cheeks because he kisses you again and reaches down with one hand between your bodies to undo the button of his jeans.

And honest-to-God, you think the second time he fucks you is even better than the first time. Maybe it was because you spent the majority of the week imagining it but he just knows where to touch, knows how to get you going and what words to say to have you crying out underneath him.

"Such a good girl for me."

Yeah, that ones a favorite.

But then, after you both come, something weird happens.

Weird as in Mingi doesn't pull his clothes on and scramble for the door at the first opportunity. In fact, you two almost cuddle. But not really, because you're not that comfortable with each other just yet. But you do kiss though and lay next to each other on your bed, naked skin touching, as you mumble around stupid things.

It's nice though. You don't get it. Why does everything with Song Mingi seem so romantic?

It's probably because you're so touch starved that the slightest hint of affection turns you soft and putty at the palm of his hand.

Once you get up to pull your sweater back on since you were starting to get a little bit chilly, Mingi speaks.

"Oh...should I...go?" You turn to him, face scrunched up and with a feeling of an even bigger cold washing over you at the thought of him leaving.

"No." You quickly respond before grimacing, "I mean, if you want to. I'm not holding you hostage or anything but...I'd like for you to...I mean, we can have dinner or something."

Mingi seems in thought for a second, brows pinched in a way that almost makes him seem...cute? He nods, a second later.

"Okay. That sounds cool."

"Cool. Do you want something to drink? I was going to make myself some tea." You explain, pulling your sweatpants up your legs as you do.

"Tea sounds good."

"Okay." You chuckle at how awkward he sounds before leaving for downstairs.

You try to collect yourself once you reach downstairs, trying not to allow yourself to get too soft with Mingi because you genuinely don't know what the two of you are doing right now?

You're not dating.

But you're having sex. Will the sex be a regular thing? You sure hope so.

Are you in another friends with benefits situation?

Were you even friends with Mingi?

The answer is that you don't know and you're too scared to ask.

You have a nasty habit of always diving into things head first with very little thinking just like you did with San, art school and cocaine. All those things ended with hurt, tears and hate- so really, what's one more thing on that list.

You want Song Mingi, so you'll have him until either one of you decides to hurt each other, resulting in a tragic end and then, you'll just move on.

You climb up the stairs and walk into your bedroom, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs of tea on it. Mingi is standing by your work desk.

He's dressed back in his clothes and the bed is made.

He's also staring at your infamous notebook where you keep your drawings.

"Oh, that's-" You start and he turns at the sound of your voice, notebook still in his hand.

"These are really cool." Mingi says with a small smile, you flush once you catch a hint of awe in his voice.

You clear your throat, walking over to him and placing the tray on your desk.

"That's just something I do for fun." You ramble nervously, "It's not my actual work. Those are my-" You point to the canvases stacked up in the corner of your room, "-actual works. Those drawings are kinda stupid-"

"I like them." He interrupts, not taking his eyes away from the colorful pages and you flush an even deeper red.

"Oh...thanks." You mutter before clearing your throat awkwardly, "Here's your tea."

Mingi murmurs a soft 'thanks' as he sits back on your bed with the notebook still in hand and you sigh, feeling a slight shiver.

"Oh, shit. I should turn on the heater." And you walk to your closet and start pulling out your space heater from it. Which catches Mingi's attention.

He looks at you like you're crazy. "You use...that?"

And you guess you could understand, the heater is an old model and definitely looks untrustworthy but it does it's job.

"Yeah." You say as you roll it to the corner of your room and plug it in, adjusting the settings.

"You have a thermostat in your room." Mingi says dryly, pointing to the small white box right by your door. "It's literally right there."

"I don't use that when I'm alone." You shake your head and let out a small, satisfied sigh once the heater starts working.

"Why?"

"I don't like messing with all the buttons and shit. I might burn the house down."

"You do know that thing is, like, fifty times more dangerous, right?" Mingi asks, looking confused.

"I..." You look up, "Don't care. Technology scares me, I like using this when I'm alone otherwise Seonghwa or Mrs. Choi has to come and adjust the thermostat."

When you walk over to grab your mug of tea, you catch Mingi looking at you, extremely amused.

"What?" You ask defensively, leaning against your desk with the mug in hand.

"Nothing." He shakes his head, letting out a chuckle, "You just seem very...human and normal right now."

"Human and normal?" You scrunch your face up, voice going higher in pitch.

Suddenly, you remember you're not wearing any make-up and on instinct, your hand flies to your face to try and cover up as you completely forget that Mingi has been here for the past hour. He has seen you without make-up, he has fucked you without make-up.

"I mean in a good way." He sings, thinking you got insulted ( and maybe you did...a little). "It's nice."

"I'm always like this." You argue back with a huff.

"Eh, not really." Mingi comments, blowing into his mug to cool it down. Your jaw drops a little as he just innocently takes a sip, not even looking at you.

"What do you mean?!" You demand for him to explain. He stops to think for a second, eyeing you up and down.

"Okay, well. First of all, you're very hot-" He began.

"Oh." You giggle like a fucking school girl, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and feeling your ego burst through the roof (not that it needed to go any higher).

Mingi groans.

"See, here you go." He complains, throwing his hand in the air but still not being able to hold the smirk off of his face.

"What? I didn't say anything!" You defend yourself but a laugh escapes you, knowing very well what he meant.

"Be serious." He scolds, "You know you're gorgeous, okay? Get over yourself."

"Okay, okay." You nod, fighting back a smile as another blush climbs your cheeks.

"What I mean is, that you seem perfect. Your outfits and your hair and make-up, your car. Like, the first time I saw you, your notebooks matched your fuckin' outfit. Your...your binders were all color coordinated, they match your laptop and your pencil case and your pens. Even your earphones. It's crazy." He lists off with an exasperated expression on his face, "No college student should be that organized. And you...you can be really fuckin' mean as well. You're a lot scarier than you think, you know?"

You snort. "I'm really not."

"Well, now you're not. You're scared of a fucking thermostat." He grumbles, blowing on his tea again.

"Ugh, whatever." You brush it off, not wanting to think about his words. "Do you want to eat right now or later?"

Mingi slows down the action of placing the mug on your nightstand.

"Uh, I'm not really hungry right now." He responds and his eyes do that thing where they grow a bit wider and make him look impossibly soft that it makes you want to throw up.

"Okay, later then." You nod, then look around your room, not really knowing what the two of you should do right now.

"You wanna work on my Computer Science assignment?" You ask lamely and Mingi chortles.

"Sure."

That's how both of you find yourselves laying on your bed. You're on your stomach with your laptop propped up in front of you as Mingi is laying next to you, flipping through the pages of your notebook.

It's...nice. Really nice.

He helps you when you need help and then returns to analyzing your drawings and you don't even feel uncomfortable that he's looking at them anymore since he seems to like them so much.

But him just being there makes you feel lighter. Usually, when your parents and brother would leave for work trips...your father and brother's work trip- your mother just goes with them to flaunt around Tokyo, you would grow sad because you're all alone far too much. Now, Mingi is here and he makes you feel warm.

"Ouch." He comments and you glance at what he's looking at in your notebook. It's Miss Prudy.

You guess that the comment was about the needle going through her heart.

"Oh, that's Miss Prudy." You say absentmindedly, typing away on your laptop.

"She has a name?!" Mingi asked incredulously.

"Of course, they all do."

"What?! No way!" He gasps and you laugh a little at his open mouth as he stares at the drawing. "What does she do?"

"Stops me from being a slut."

His head whips towards you but you don't even skip a beat, just continue copying the commands.

"What do you mean?" Mingi croaks out and you snort as his ears turn red before dropping the pencil in your hand and looking at the drawing of Miss Prudy a little bit closer.

"Well, I drew her when I did something...bad." Fucked your cousin's boyfriend but Mingi doesn't need to know that. "And I guess...I remember her when I'm about to get tangled up with the next wrong guy."

"Wrong guy?" He asks with his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Yeah, she doesn't like any of them." You pursue her lips, staring at the hem of her long skirt.

"What...w-what about me?"

"What about you?"

"Does she like me?" Mingi questions and your eyes travel from the page towards his wide eyes. You held back a smirk.

Did Miss Prudy like Mingi?

Of course I bloody don't, you idiot! He's in love with the girl you absolutely humiliated in front of an entire cafeteria and you're sleeping with him right now. You come-guzzling, shameless who-

"No." You respond honestly and Mingi almost seems offended that a fictional character that resides in your head doesn't like him.

"Okay, well..." He hurriedly flips through the page and you sigh, pressing 'save' on your document and lowering your laptop to the floor before getting comfortable on the bed next to him since you have a feeling that he'll want to know about every single drawing. "What about this one?"

It's the drawing of the girls with mechanisms for eyes and bent out of shape nails for a smile. You swallow dryly.

"She doesn't have a name. But she lives in mirrors." You say quietly, grabbing a cushion and placing it in your lap. "She lives off of compliments and everyone else's opinions of her. I need to get her a name."

Mingi is quiet for a second, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. "This ones my favorite."

You smile shallowly at him but he's already looking away, flipping through the notebook.

"But...does every drawing have a story? Like, you don't draw them just for the sake of drawing them?" His curiosity is evident and it's partly endearing but partly overbearing.

"Uh, it's hard to explain..." You rub your eye tiredly, wondering how you're supposed to explain what goes on in your head to him. "It's characters that I...Sometimes I feel like there's a TV show happening but inside of my head, right?" He nods, "And those are the characters in the show, the scenery that surrounds them and stuff...I don't know."

Mingi hums in understanding and you're thankful that he's not calling you crazy. He's not trying to crack dumbass jokes about you needing a therapist because honestly, you've heard it all before and you wouldn't be hurt or anything. If he does think that, he doesn't show it.

Who knows, maybe he'll have lunch with Boyoung tomorrow and tell her all about how fucking insane you are.

But in this moment, with you, he seems accepting and even more intrigued.

"This one?" You glance at the paper.

The drawing of the man with sky blue hair that reaches his shoulders and mustache to match greets you. It's just a drawing of his face but you know that he's dressed like he lived in the 70s with a colorful button up shirt and patterned flare pants.

He has stars shimmering in his blue hair and Jupiter tucked between a couple of strands. His eyelashes are covered in stardust and his lips could numb you.

"Jesus Christ of Wonderland." Mingi reads your messy handwriting in the corner of the paper.

"I should change his name." You cringe with a small giggle. "I drew him a long time ago."

"So what's his story?"

"He gives people bliss for a dangerous price. Like, he makes them feel really good, head empty, thoughts washed away and instead, can make them feel like they're floating and invincible but only temporarily and then in return; he brings sadness, anger, disappointment, fear...lots of other bad things- to the people they love most."

Mingi frowns at that.

"Would anyone really accept anything from him when it's like that?" He cocks his head to the side, lips folded in a confused pout.

You shrug, still staring at the drawing. "Depends on how bad they wanna forget."

Without another word, Mingi starts flipping through the notebook again and you lean your head against the pillow watching the familiar pages that got filled up over the time. You forgot half of the drawings by now.

"Oh, this one." He stops across a drawing that goes across both pages. "It's incredible but...I don't get it."

"She dies." You point to the small figure of a girl who's face is unrecognizable.

The sky is yellow and has clouds in the shape of goldfishes. The trees are alive, there is life pulsating through their bark and the lake is green and blooming with daisies that tempt you to swim through them. The sun is breathing in a pretty shade of purple and on top of a hot pink hill there is a house filled with people.

"The hurricane kills her?" Mingi asks, pointing to the hurricane in the corner of the paper. You nod.

"Yeah."

"What about them?" He points to the house filled with people who cheer as the girl stands alone just a few feet in front of the daisy lake. "Does it kill them as well?"

"Of course not." You frown, defensively, "They're way too important."

Mingi's fingers slip from the paper as he turns to you with an unreadable expression. He looks a little sad.

"The girl isn't important?"

"It's just a drawing, Mingi." You chuckle, hugging the pillow closer to your chest.

"I didn't say anything." Mingi counters slowly and you roll your eyes and take it upon yourself to flip the page.

He moves your fingers away from the paper and starts moving the pages by himself until he stops at one. One from about half a year ago.

"What's this one?" Mingi asks quietly and your pillow slowly slips from your grasp as you stare at it.

It's a drawing of a boy with a carefree smile that skips from one orange hill to the other. Always so close yet so far because the moment you're an inch away from grasping his hand, he disappears with his soft laughs echoing around you and he materializes on the next hill in front of you.

And no matter how many times he disappears into thin air, you always run down the hill you're on and up the next one just in hopes that you'll get to hold his hand one day. Over and over again.

"That's San." You say quietly, sitting up and reaching for your laptop and notebooks that you left on the floor. Mingi is staring at you, you can feel it. He wants to ask what's the meaning of the drawing, you can feel that too.

"Unreachable." Is all you say as you open your laptop again.

Mingi gathers from your suddenly fallen mood that you don't want to talk about the notebook or the drawings anymore, so he carefully shuts it and places it on your nightstand before he takes your laptop from your lap.

"Let's do your assignment."

Days pass by, the weather grows even colder as you November reaches it's end and December kicks off and you and Mingi still continue seeing each other.

Even after your assignment is turned in and you pass the subject with a strong A, you continue to see each other for study sessions in the library. Hongjoong included, of course. It's the coolest study group ever, he says.

But he doesn't know that you and Mingi play footsie under the oak tables while he's busy flipping through his thick books. Hongjoong doesn't know that every weekend he goes home to visit his parents, Mingi sneaks you into his room and fucks you into the mattress until you're so loud that his other two roommates start complaining. Hongjoong definitely doesn't know that Mingi has seen the inside of your room more times just this month than anyone else outside your family members has in years.

You don't know what you're doing and sometimes you wonder if Mingi knows either.

You wonder if he ever thinks about Boyoung and the way she might feel about all of this. You wonder if he's still in love with her.

At certain times when he's with you- stripping you out of your clothes or just watching a movie on your laptop, you can hear his phone buzz but he just turns it off and you know it's her because you notice the guilt on his face.

The good side of you wants to break...whatever this is, off with him so you can relieve him of that guilt that you know he's carrying inside.

But the rotten part of you is selfish enough to indulge in the fact that he's choosing you over her, the rotten part of you wonders how far he will actually go before he either owns up to it and tells her or breaks it off with you completely.

For now though, having him to yourself is enough.

You moan as Mingi's lips move against yours lazily, both blissed out after the sex and bodies still tangled up with each other as you run a hand through his dark hair while his fingers brush your cheek.

The buzzing of your phone interrupts you and he groans as you move from under him and reach for the phone on your nightstand, reading the text message you got.

Wooyo: I'll be there in half an hour <3

"Fuck!" You hiss, pushing Mingi off of you completely and he falls to the other side of the bed with a surprised grunt as you jump up from the bed and run to pull your underwear back on.

You completely forgot that you told Wooyoung you would be meeting him for lunch today.

After your panties are pulled on, you rush to the bathroom to fix your make-up which smudged underneath your eyes.

"Do you have a boyfriend I should be aware of?" Mingi's voice calls out from your bed and you peek your head out of the bathroom to see your phone in his hand, he waves it in his hand with an awkward smile.

"Wooyoung says there's traffic." He reads off of the screen and you sigh in relief, knowing you would have more time to look put together.

"It's my friend!" You call loudly from the bathroom as you brush through your tangled hair, "I'm supposed to meet him for lunch today but obviously, I forgot."

"Oh." Is quietly heard.

You walk out of the bathroom and pull your bra on before going to stand with your back to Mingi's spot on the bed. "Can you please get the hooks?"

"Sure." He says, carefully pulling the clasps of the bra together. You turn to him.

"Do you wanna come to lunch?" You ask genuinely, "Wooyoung is cool, you'll get along with him."

"Uh, I don't know..." Mingi responds as he starts pulling his clothes back on. "I mean...I could eat."

"Great!" You happily exclaim, tugging your nylons on before pulling the same outfit you wore to classes today which was just a pretty, woolen high waisted midi pencil skirt and a sweater on top and your boots.

When Mingi is all dressed and looking at himself in your mirror, he turns to you again. "I don't think I should go."

"What? Why not?" You frown as you clasp your watch around your wrist.

"Do I look okay?" He asks with a small pout and you eye him up and down with a confused gaze. He's in a sweatshirt and jeans. And looks hot.

You like the way Mingi dresses. His hoodies and sweatshirts seem comfortable and soft, plus he always smells nice and it feels good when he has his arms wrapped around you.

"You look fine."

"Yeah but like...do I look fine as in good enough?" Mingi plays with your fingers and you stop what you were doing to look at him properly.

"Good enough?"

"Yeah, like, I don't wanna embarrass you or something." He mumbles and your face softens so quickly as warmth engulfs you inside out.

"Mingi, you could never embarrass me." And it's the honest-to-God truth, Mingi is handsome, smart and funny. He's a great guy. "And you look great, don't even worry about it." You assure him as honestly as possible. "You think Wooyoung is some rich prick or something?"

You mull over your own words.

"Well, he kind of is but the good kind of rich prick. Just trust me."

After a moment of what seems to be contemplating, Mingi nods and you give him a smile, pulling on your coat.

"You look nice." He compliments quietly, lips quirking up and you hate that your cheeks heat up a little.

"Thanks. Now let's go."

"How come your parents are never home?" Mingi asks as you both start descending down the stairs and you sigh.

"At the end of every year, they have to make sure everything is good in the japanese branch of the company, so my dad and brother are there up until almost Christmas- sometimes even then. Mom just likes going for the sake of going, I guess." You explain as you lock up the front door behind the both of you and you stand in your driveway, waiting for Wooyoung.

"That's kinda lonely, isn't it? For you, I mean." Mingi wonders and you smile before quickly recollecting yourself. Damn him for being so cute.

"It's okay, I'm used to it." You shrug, wrapping the coat tighter around yourself.

"Are you sure I look okay?" Mingi asks one last time and you groan, opening your mouth to scold him but you're cut off by the roar of an engine pulling up in your driveway. You turn to Mingi again.

"Seriously, you look hot and you're worrying too much! Wooyoung is about to step out of the car dressed like a middle schooler!"

"I hear you talking shit about me even from here, you know!" Wooyoung calls, head only poking outside the window of his car and you and Mingi both make your way over to him.

"Oh, and who are you?" Wooyoung asks, ever the charmer. Mingi opens his mouth.

"Can you be normal?" You scold him as you get in and Mingi gets in the back seat. "This is my friend Mingi, he helped me with my Computer Science assignment. I was telling you about it, remember?"

Wooyoung turns to eye Mingi up and down and Mingi, who is taller than Wooyoung by a whole head, looks ready to shit bricks for some reason.

"Oh and he was in your house with hair that suspiciously looks like sex hair and hickeys covering his neck, why?" Wooyoung lists without missing a beat and you take a deep breath, feeling your blood pressure rise immediately.

"Jesus Christ." You hear Mingi mutter from the backseat, fixing his hair the best he could and you almost feel bad for the poor guy.

"None of your business." You throw back at Wooyoung. "Can you drive? We're starving over here."

"Hey, I don't mean anything bad by it, Mingi." Wooyoung reassures, eyes connecting with Mingi's in the car mirror as he starts driving down the road. "If you're the reason she's been in a better mood these past couple of weeks then lunch is on me today. Thank you for giving her a couple of orgasms, Lord knows she needed them."

"Oh my God." You whisper out and you can faintly hear Mingi choke in the background, you turn to Wooyoung, "I'm going to kill you."

And there was Mingi, thinking he was going to embarrass you. Completely clueless that nothing can cause more embarrassment than Jung Wooyoung.

But the lunch ends up being fine. It's fun even.

Mingi slowly relaxes and warms up to Wooyoung because he's Wooyoung- he simply has that effect on people and his laughter and loud personality are infectious.

You enjoy the food, talk about classes, parties and whatnot. Wooyoung is carefully avoiding asking anything about your relationship with Mingi and you know why.

He plans on ambushing you when you're both alone.

"Mingi, you want me to drop you off somewhere?" Wooyoung asks as he starts driving out of the restaurants parking lot.

"That would be great actually. I live two blocks away from campus." Mingi explains and Wooyoung nods in response, adding the address to his GPS.

You're satisfied and happy, with a full belly and cool head, leaning back in your seat and completely tuning out their conversation.

Wooyoung drops Mingi off at his house and Mingi says goodbye with his pinky wrapping around yours briefly through the space between your seat and the car door.

"I like him." Wooyoung announces into the silence as he starts driving away from Mingi's house.

You only hum in response, not knowing what to say exactly.

"Are you dating him?"

"No." You chuckle as if the idea of you and Mingi dating was completely out of the question. "We're just...I don't even know. Having fun, I guess?"

"Ah," Wooyoung nods, before giving a half-hearted shrug, "Well, he's nice honestly."

"Yeah, he's cool." You agree.

Five days after that lunch, you see San in the library.

You come to pick up some books that Professor Ahn suggest you look through the last time you've seen her. You've been meeting her every two or so weeks and it's not anything special if you were honest, but it's nice to be able to talk about your art with someone.

You walk through the Art History section, skimming through the shelves filled with books when a figure sitting by one of the tables near the big windows catches your eye.

It's San. Always, the beautiful Choi San.

He's in a black sweater and his dark hair falls over his forehead, eyes fixated on the notes in front of him as he writes something down. He's studying.

You haven't seen him in awhile, weirdly you don't miss him when you don't see him. But in moments like these, you're reminded of what you once had and it leaves you feeling somewhat hollow.

He's still dating Boyoung, you know that much at least.

You jump a little when his eyes meet yours and you quickly take the book you came for before turning around and walking away.

It's embarrassing to be the one to care more.

As if that's not enough, on the same day, as you're walking out of the library and heading to your car- you spot Mingi and Boyoung.

They're walking together, laughing loudly with steaming drinks in their hands. You don't know if you're hurt but you're definitely not happy about it.

You don't care if she had Mingi first, you want him all to yourself now. She already has San.

Still, you're not crazy. No matter how intrusive your thoughts may be at times, you're not dating Mingi. Boyoung is his best friend and you need to be normal.

You are normal.

You might be a lot of things but you respect other people's friendships.

But...is it just a friendship to Mingi? Is it really? Or are the rumors true? About him being in love with her.

You already decided for yourself that they are because it's better to be let down in the beginning, then you can only go up from there.

Still, you knew how dramatic you could be and you were genuinely curious if the rumors were true. You try to read Mingi's body language, try to figure out if he looks at her in any way that might indicate he has feelings that go any deeper than true friendship but you can't tell.

You get in your car pretending you didn't see either of them and head to Professor Ahn's house.

When Mingi texts you that night, asking if you wanted to come over- you say you're busy.

The spunk only lasts for two days though because on the third one, you pick up Mingi from his house and fuck him in your car in an empty parking lot.

Mingi leaves for his hometown three days before Christmas, so does Hongjoong. You won't see them until almost the middle of January and it dampens your mood. Over time, they've became somewhat constants in your life and you enjoy spending time with them.

Still, you like Christmas.

Your family acts like a proper family for once.

You decorate the tree and the house together with the staff. You eat baked goodies that your mother would normally not even allow in the house. Even your father is home for once.

Your mother makes all of you wear ugly Christmas sweaters and you take photos in the big living room, so she can send them to her cousins and friends to brag about her perfect family and life.

Seonghwa stands next to you, hand placed over your shoulder and your parents sit down on the chairs in front of you two. The nicely decorated Christmas tree is in the background and you all shine bright smiles towards the camera as your mother instructs which pose you should do next.

Your phone buzzes.

Mingi: It's very....

Mingi: It's pretty!!!! Very red

You snort at his response to the mirror selfie you sent of your ugly sweater.

"Is San that funny?" Seonghwa mutters as you both stand against the wall as your mother arranges photos with the staff and you clench your jaw, glancing at him quickly.

"It's not San." You respond quietly, placing your phone in the back pocket of your skirt.

"Then who is it?"

This is what annoyed you most with Seonghwa.

He ignores you on most occasions, isn't very nice for a very long time now but he's still so fucking nosy and wants to know what's going on in your life.

Usually, you would be happy and gladly talk to him about Mingi, Hongjoong and just about anything really, despite the fact that he's an asshole towards you.

But these days, you're growing too tired of it. Too tired of running after him to make things right between the two of you despite how badly you want things to go back to how they once were.

The past is ruined. You can't go back to it, so was there really a point in trying anymore?

"None of your business." You mutter back, without looking at him and he scoffs in response before walking away to sit on the couch.

Then after you brush him off, of course you feel bad about it because you think that every chance he gives you to talk to him is a step closer to fixing things and yet, you've been stuck at the starting point for almost two years now. It's exhausting.

You don't let any of it ruin your mood. You always enjoyed Christmas ever since you were little, ugly sweaters and all.

Maybe you just wish you spent it with different people though. Because after the family photos and the big lunch your family throws every Christmas where you have to mingle with people you don't know very well- you all retrieve to your separate rooms and you're engulfed by loneliness once again.

Your New Year's kiss ends up being Wooyoung.

A sloppy, drunken kiss that ends with snorts and laughter because it happened solely for the reason that you both thought walking into the New Year without kissing someone is for losers.

It's a good party though, the usual rich kids shit but you have Wooyoung and you spend most of the night dancing around and getting drunk with him.

Neither of you care that everyone thinks you're dating.

Winter break is gloomy, cold and also, spent mostly with Wooyoung.

You don't know how neither one of you got bored from each other just yet. You're constantly at his apartment, eating food that Wooyoung sometimes cooks and sometimes you just order in. You watch those Hallmark Christmas movies that are definitely bad but still have something addicting to them.

You paint some more. One of your professors told you he sent your painting for one of the competitions being held in the spring. It's cool, you suppose.

You only visit Professor Ahn once, bearing a bottle of red wine as a Christmas gift. She's alone, all the time.

Mingi surprises you with a text one Wednesday afternoon.

Mingi: I came back earlier so I have the house to myself

Mingi: Come over

Mingi: And stay the night?

So you come up with an excuse that you'll be sleeping over at Wooyoung's place that night and of course, your mother is delighted. Everything goes as long as it's with Wooyoung.

"Hey." You greet once Mingi opens the door, dressed in a thick hoodie with the hood pulled over his head so his eyes are barely peeking from under it.

He gives you a toothy grin and something tingles inside of you.

"Hey, come in." He holds the door wider open as you step in and you take off your shoes before you both awkwardly stare at each other for a second.

You think if you should hug him. You want to because you missed him but you're not sure if Mingi wants to hug you or anything. Are you there in your relationship with him yet where you hug when you don't see each other for awhile?

Mingi lets out an awkward chuckle and you pull the sleeves of your thick sweater over your hands.

"Sorry, it's cold. I turned on the heating like an hour ago but it takes awhile since the place was empty for the month." He explains as you follow him to the kitchen.

There are plastic containers and tuperware on the counter that you look at with curiosity.

"What's all this?" You say, glancing at all the food. Mingi gives an embarrassed laugh, starting to place the containers in the fridge.

"It's food my mom sent me." He chuckles and you think it's endearing how his cheeks flush pink. "She sent too much."

"That's nice of her." You muse, watching him as he diligently places the food on the shelf in the fridge with a little sticker that says 'Mingi's food'. "You won't have to cook for awhile."

"Yeah, she's always worried that I'll starve or something." He chuckles, before turning to you to defend himself with his eyes endearingly widened, "I know how to cook! But I'm kind of lazy."

You giggle and nod in understanding, sitting by the counter and wait for him to be done with putting everything away.

Once the counter is cleared up, you both move to his bedroom with mugs of tea and snacks in your hands.

His room is a lot warmer than the rest of the house but you both still get underneath the sheets as he sets up his laptop for a movie.

Interstellar is one of Mingi's favorite movies, you've never seen it before until he suggested it one night after you had sex. It's a good movie, so you don't mind when he puts it on again.

"How was your break?" You ask as you try to get yourself comfortable against the headboard.

"It was fine. Hung out with my friends a little bit, saw my family and that's it really. Yours?" He turns to you, eyeing the way you squirm and shift the blanket around yourself.

"It was alright. Spent most of it with Wooyoung and painting." He nods at your response and suddenly pulls you into his side. Your lips part as he moves his arm around your smaller frame, so you're almost laying on his chest.

"You move too much." Is all he mumbles and you don't respond, thinking it's better to just focus on the movie.

Halfway through the movie though, his lips somehow end up on yours and the movie is long forgotten as he climbs on top of you and licks into your mouth while his hands drag your skirt down your legs.

"You need to wear thicker clothes." Mingi mumbles against your neck, "It's too cold for skirts."

"I go everywhere..." You pant as he suckles on your sweet spot, "with my c-car anyways."

"Still." He mutters, before crashing his lips into yours again and you moan.

Somewhere between deep groans and sighs, naked skin on skin, him thrusting into you and your broken cries, Mingi whispers; I missed you.

After that night, you're left confused.

You feel something for Song Mingi. But you just can't put a finger on what is it exactly nor will it ever lead somewhere.

You see him a couple of times a week and sometimes, you don't even have sex with him. Sometimes, it's just hanging out. Grabbing a cup of coffee or getting lunch together before class. You're confused.

It doesn't help that Wooyoung keeps mentioning him.

"What about Mingi?"

You turn to Wooyoung with your brows furrowed, mouth full of noodles as you ask carefully, "What about him?"

"Maybe you should try it with him." Wooyoung shrugs, popping a piece of chicken in his mouth.

You were on the topic of relationships as you both watched the newest episode of How To Get Away With Murder. And the discussion about guys suddenly led to Mingi being mentioned.

"I...I don't know." You mumble, tapping your manicured nails against the side of your bowl of food. "I mean...I like him. I wouldn't be having sex with him if I didn't like him."

"But?" Wooyoung drags on with curious eyes, waiting for you to elaborate.

"But I'm confused because...because it doesn't feel like it did with San." You admit, eyes casting downwards. Wooyoung looks at you, munching away.

"Of course, it doesn't, Y/N. Geez, you've been hooking up with San for a whole year and you were, like, obsessed with him!" He exclaims and you wince at the use of the word 'obsessed'. Wooyoung sighs loudly and you pout.

"Listen, Mingi and San are two different people."

"Yeah, but what if I'm not over San? Then what?" You ask, "Am I supposed to start something with Mingi even then?"

"Yes!" He says loudly and you roll your eyes. "The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else! You've already done that and don't you feel better?"

You pursue your lips.

"See! All I'm saying is that you should just go with the flow." He continues, "Stop overthinking it. You like Mingi, you like spending time with him, no?"

You nod.

"Then ask him out on a date." Wooyoung suggests, "Just have fun. Not every relationship has to be something serious, you know? You can date for a couple of months and then, I don't know, if it's not working then it's not working!"

"What I'm saying is that you need to break out of this spunk you're in. I know you're a little hopeless romantic. You love that shit!" He accuses you with a finger pointed at you, "So ask him out, go do something cute together for fuck's sake!"

You think about it for a moment.

Maybe there is some truth in Wooyoung's words.

You've always been lead by your emotions and emotions...they're fickle little things. Unreliable and uncertain. They change like the weather and what you feel today, you might not feel tomorrow.

And a date does sound nice. You don't remember the last time you've ever been on one. It was before college definitely.

"You think Mingi would go on a date with me?" You in a small voice and Wooyoung turns his attention from the screen back to you, looking at you like you're stupid.

"Of course he would, what are you on?" He scoffs.

"But what about...what about Boyoung? She's his best friend."

He rolls his eyes at that.

"Mingi has been fucking you for over two months now. He crossed several lines already, I doubt a little date would do more damage than it's already been done." Wooyoung shakes his head, "Just think about it."

You nod in response, with a thoughtful expression as you both change the subject.

The new semester begins and your whatever-it-is with Song Mingi continues just like before, you don't bring up the date around him.

You grow even closer. You're friends now, you're sure of it. You text each other randomly, share stupid videos and funny photos.

You also have sex. And it's still amazing.

"I'm hungry." You grumble from Mingi's bed where you sat, propped up against his headboard with your notebook in your lap as you were drawing while he sat behind his desk, typing away on his laptop.

The hang-outs in his room when Hongjoong was out of the house became even more frequent. Especially since the first time you slept over.

Mingi looks up, his headphones falling around his neck as he gives you an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, I got carried away with this bullshit." He points to his assignment and you brush it off saying you didn't mind. "I don't think I have any food here but we could go down to the convenience store. It's just down the street."

"Okay." You nod, already moving to stand up from the bed.

Your trip to the convenience store feels like a trip to Ikea for an average adult. It's like Disneyland.

In reality, it's nothing special. Just a small store at the corner of the street with snacks, noodles and other unhealthy foods that most college students live off of.

Not you though. The last time you were in a convenience store was when you were on a field trip in middle school.

"Woah." You whisper with wide eyes that glaze over the variety of ramen, kimbaps, sandwiches and everything else.

You watch Mingi pick out two cups of ramen silently as you tuck your hands and your wallet in the pockets of your thick coat.

"What are you going to get?" You ask Mingi like a child, as you follow him around the store.

He turns to you, smile growing on his lips as if he was endeared or something.

"Ramen with sausages probably. You?"

You look around the shelves, cluelessly. "I don't know."

He hums in thought, lips pouting as he looks around the snacks as well. "Do you like corndogs?"

"I've never tried them." Your respond, staring at the deserts, unbeknown to Mingi's bewildered face.

"Never?!" He exclaims and you shake your head, cheeks heating up. It's not like you didn't want to but you had lunches prepared for you since you were in kindergarten and it's not like you need anything from convenience stores otherwise.

"Well, we need to get you the full college student experience then." Mingi nods and immediately starts throwing different snacks and foods into the basket on his arm and you just follow after him until the basket is full with a variety of foods.

"Oh, this!" You tug on his arm as you pull out two blueberry flavored jelly drinks from the freezer. Mingi chuckles and just nods for you to place it in the basket.

When you reach the register, you pull out your wallet to pay put Mingi gently pushes your hand away.

"I got it." He says, giving his credit card to the teenage girl working there.

"There's a lot of stuff here." You say pointing to the big bag filled with food and snacks. Mingi chuckles.

"Y/N, trust me. If there's anything I can afford, it's this. Don't worry about it." You open your mouth to argue but he just shushes you, reaching for the bag.

It's night time even though it's little past six p.m. and you can't wait for spring to come so the day can last longer. You both walk side by side up to his house, bumping against each other occasionally.

After Mingi prepares the food, which is really just microwaving it and pouring boiling water into the cups of ramen, you both sit side by side on the counter and start eating.

And you fear that you might grow addicted to convenience store food after that.

You make a soft exclamation sound as you bite into the corndog and see a string of cheese stretching. Mingi laughs as he watches you eat.

That's all you've been doing since you started eating, making sounds of satisfaction at each snack you tried.

"If I knew this would make you that happy, I would've taken you convenience store shopping a long time ago." Mingi chuckles, handing you a napkin. "I eat there all the time."

"The last time I've been in one was when I was in middle school maybe." You respond as you chew, eyes closed as the cheese melts on your tongue.

"You don't ever eat this at home? You know, a lazy meal or something?" He asks still in complete surprise.

"I eat raw vegetables and fruits for lazy meals." You respond, almost inhaling the ramen.

"Why?" He asks as if disgusted by the idea. You shrug.

"My mom is really strict. I've been on a diet since I was, like, fourteen." You say without much thought, not finding anything wrong with your words until you see that Mingi has stopped eating and is now looking at you.

You turn to him.

"Sorry, don't know why I said that." You chuckle humorlessly, feeling stupid for revealing something like that and possibly bringing the carefree mood down. You didn't say it for any pity points, either. "Just forget it."

"No, its..." Mingi starts but quickly drops it with a headshake. "You don't have to apologize."

"So..." You quickly change the subject and hop on something you've been meaning to ask him recently. "There's a rumor about you going around campus. About you and Boyoung."

You don't know where the boldness came from. You haven't uttered Boyoung's name around him ever since you started spending time together.

Mingi pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue before nodding.

"Yeah, I know the rumor." He chuckles, seemingly not bothered by the question or the mention of Boyoung so you relax a little bit but still not enough to not wait for his response with a bated breath. "It's not really a rumor per say."

You slow down your chewing on the piece of kimbap you just popped in your mouth.

"We've known each other since we were kids, grew up in the same town and stuff. I confessed to her in our senior year of high school and she said she didn't feel the same way." He shrugs as if it isn't a big deal and you chew with your brows furrowed. "I got over it, honestly. Haven't felt that way about her for a long time."

"Oh." You muse out, not know with what you're supposed to respond with as you reel the new information in.

"Yeah." Mingi chuckles awkwardly, slurping more noodles in his mouth.

"And you just gave up? Just like that?" You ask curiously and he gives you a strange but amused look.

"What else was I supposed to do?" He asks as he swallows his food. "I can't force her to feel something she doesn't."

"Dunno..." You think, "I wouldn't give up that easily."

"Well, I know you wouldn't. You're used to getting things your way, aren't you?" Mingi chuckles before shaking my head. "Nah, I'm pretty content with giving up."

"Well, if you're sure." You shrug but you would be lying if you said you didn't feel a huge amount of relief curse through you at his words. He doesn't have feelings for Boyoung.

After you're done with your food, Mingi stands up to clear out the counter.

"The best thing about having convenience store food for dinner is that..." He starts, as he pushes all the wrappers and paper cups into a plastic bag with one swipe, "-everything goes to the trashcan and there are no dirty dishes afterwards."

You laugh as you stand up, grabbing your jelly drink and opening it to taste it and handing Mingi his own before you make it up to his room.

His room is completely dark when you walk in, only faintly illuminated by the lights coming from the screen of his laptop and the street lamps coming from the window.

"Hey." He whispers, big hand wrapping around your wrist as he turns you towards him after he shut the door. You look at him in confusion as he takes the opened jelly drink away, placing it along with his on the desk before his hands rest on your cheeks.

He kisses you softly, sweetly. You let out a little sound of surprise before kissing back, letting his tongue lick past your lips. He tastes like artificial blueberries.

Slowly, he guides you towards his bed where you fall and he climbs on top of you as he deepens the kiss.

You moan, running your hand through his dark locks before pulling on the ends as he pulls you up to the center of the bed and settles between your legs.

The sex that night is different. You don't know why or what prompts it but it just is.

It's softer, slower but still passionate and you feel like your body is melting between his sheets as he rolls his hips into yours in a torturous pace.

"What are you doing to me?" Mingi whispers against your neck as you moan at the way he thrusts into you that it has you seeing stars, "Why are you so good to me, huh?"

You don't even register the words he says because you're too lost in the pleasure and just...him.

When you both come, you lay under his sheets with tangled limbs and sip on the blueberry jelly drinks as you whisper to each other about nothings and everythings.

You decide to ask Song Mingi out on a date.

That night as you stare at the ceiling of Mingi's bedroom, your eyes trace the shapes of a boy and a girl coasting through the purple clouds  of Wonderland on a Persian rug, admiring the colorful scenery of the green daisy lake and pink mountains. The stars wave as the boy and the girl fly past them.

The stars know that one of them cares too much and the other gives up too easily.

[layce2015]

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Bloody Mary

Previous Chapter / First Chapter / Next Chapter

"Sam, wake up." I said to Sam, shaking his shoulder, after he fidgets in the passenger seat. I was in the backseat of the Impala since, some miles back, I found one of my dad's safe houses and dropped the bike there and started bumming rides off of Dean and Sam.

Sam wakes up, confused, then sits up, looks around and sees we were in front of a large building. "I take it I was having a nightmare." He said and I nodded. "Yeah, another one." I said, with worry.

"Hey, at least I got some sleep." Sam said, in a sarcastic manner; which makes Dean, who was in the driver's seat, sigh.

"You know, sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this." Dean said.

"Are we here?" Sam said, ignoring Dean. "Yup. Welcome to Toledo, Ohio." I said as Sam picks up a newspaper with a man named Steven Shoemaker's obituary circled.

"So what do you guys think really happened to this guy?" Sam asked us. "That's what we're gonna find out." Dean said then he starts to get of the car. "Let's go." He said and the three of us get out of the car and head up to the building.

****

We head into room 144, which is marked the Morgue. Inside, there was two desks, the empty one has a nameplate that says Dr. D. Feiklowicz. The other one has the Morgue Technician. "Hey." The tech said to us. "Hey." Dean said to him.

"Can I help you?" The Technician asked us. "Yeah. We're the med students." I said, quickly. "Sorry?" The Technician asked, confused.

"Oh, Doctor Feiklowicz didn't tell you? We talked to him on the phone. We're from Ohio State. He's supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse. It's for our paper." I said to the Technician. "Well, I'm sorry, he's at lunch." The Technician said.

"Oh well he said, uh—oh, well, you know, it doesn't matter. You don't mind just showing us the body, do you?" Dean asked him. "Sorry, I can't." said the Technician. "Doc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him if you want."

"An hour? Ooh. We gotta be heading back to Columbus by then." I said as I look over at the boys. "Yeah." Sam said as Dean nods but the Technician doesn't move or say anything.

"Uh, look, man, this paper's like half our grade, so if you don't mind helping us out—" Dean started to say but the Technician shakes his head. "Uh, look, man...no." he said.

Dean laughs a little then turns around to us. "I'm gonna hit him in his face I swear." He mumbles to us and I slapped his shoulder and Sam hits Dean on the arm. Sam steps in front of us and opens his wallet and pulls out some twenties. He lays a few of them, at least five, down on the Technician's desk. The guy picks up the money. "Follow me." He said and he gets up and leaves.

Dean grabs Sam when we tried to follow. "Dude, I earned that money." Dean grumbles at him and I rolled my eyes. "You won it in a poker game." I said to him and he looks at me. "Yeah." He said, like it was obvious. I shake my head roll my eyes at him then we follow the Technician.

"Now the newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding." Sam said as the Technician pulls back the sheet over Steven's face. "More than that. They practically liquefied." The Tech said.

"Any sign of a struggle? Maybe somebody did it to him?" Dean asked. "Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone." The Tech said.

"What's the official cause of death." I said, curiously. "Ah, Doc's not sure. He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure." He said.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked. "Intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen." The Technician said and we looked at him, confused and baffled.

"The eyes were mashed? What would cause something like that?" I asked him. "Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims." The tech replied.

"Yeah? You ever see exploding eyeballs?" Dean asked him. "That's a first for me, but hey, I'm not the doctor." The tech said, shrugging.

"Hey, think we could take a look at that police report? You know for, uh...our paper." I said. "I'm not really supposed to show you that." The tech said and Sam, annoyed, pulls out his wallet.

****

Later, we walked down stairs and out of the hospital. "Might not be one of ours. Might just be some freak medical thing." Sam said. "How many times in Dad's long and varied career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?" Dean asked.

"Uh, almost never." Sam said. "Exactly." Dean said and I shake my head. "All right, let's go talk to the daughter." I said to the boys and we head to the Impala.

****

Later, we walk into the funeral, where there was a picture of Steven Shoemaker on the desk. The attendees were all men in black suits and women in black dresses, except for me and the boys. "Feel like we're underdressed." Dean grumbles and we keep walking through the house towards the back.

"You must be Donna, right?" Dean said as we come up to this girl who was with a couple of girls. "Yeah." Donna said.

"Hi, uh—we're really sorry." Sam said to her. "Thank you." She said, appreciatevly. "I'm Sam, this is Dean and (y/n). We worked with your dad." Sam said and Donna looks over at the girl standing next to her then back to us.

"You did?" She asked us. "Yeah. This whole thing. I mean, a stroke." Sam said.

"I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now." Her friend growls at us. "It's okay. I'm okay." She said to her.

"Were there any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?" I asked her. "No." She said and then a girl, she looked preteen, turns around.

"That's because it wasn't a stroke." The girl said. "Lily, don't say that." Donna said to her. "What?" Sam and I asked her. "I'm sorry, she's just upset." Donna assured us but Lily wasn't having it.

"No, it happened because of me." She said.

"Sweetie, it didn't." Donna said and I give a concern look to the girl.

"Lily." I said, calmly, as I get down on eye level with Lily. "Why would you say something like that?" I asked her. "Right before he died, I said it." She replied.

"You said what?" I asked. "Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror. She took his eyes, that's what she does." She replied and my heart sunk as I heard this.

"That's not why Dad died. This isn't your fault." Donna said to her little sister. "I think your sister's right, Lily. There's no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he?" Dean asked. "No, I don't think so." She replied, shaking her head.

****

We head up the stairs and towards the bathroom, Sam pushes the door open and we could see that there was still dried blood on the floor. "The Bloody Mary legend...Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?" Sam asked Dean. "Not that I know of." Dean said as be walks into the bathroom. Sam then turns to me.

"What about your dad?" He asked me. "I don't think so. I remember he heard about the legend and he wanted to investigate it but...that was around the time he found out about his cancer." I replied then Sam stoops to the floor and touches the dried blood.

****

"I mean, everywhere else all over the country, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it." Sam said. "Yeah, well, maybe everywhere it's just a story, but here it's actually happening." Dean said. "The place where the legend began?" I asked and Dean shrugs and opens the medicine cabinet.

"But according to the legend, the person who says B—" Sam started to say but stops and looks at the medicine cabinet mirror, which now faces him, then he closes it. "The person who says you know what gets it. But here—"

"Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah." Dean and I said, in unison.

"Right." Sam said.

"Never heard anything like that before." Dean said and I shake my head. "Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, you know who scratches your eyes out." I said. "It's worth checking in to." Sam said.

*****

We leave the bathroom when Donna's friend comes up to us. "What are you doing up here?" She asked us. "We—we, had to go to the bathroom." Dean said as the girl looks between us.

"Who are you?" She asked, angrily.

"Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad." I said to her. "He was a day trader or something. He worked by himself." She said.

"No, I know, I meant—"

"And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that? So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming." the girl said, interrupting me. "All right, all right. We think something happened to Donna's dad." Sam said. "Yeah, a stroke." The girl said.

"That's not a sign of a typical stroke. We think it might be something else." Sam said to her.

"Like what?" She asked, confused. "Honestly? We don't know yet. But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth." I said to her. "So, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead." Dean said and the girl looks between us.

"Who are you, cops?" She asked and Sam looks over his shoulder at me and Dean. "Something like that." Dean said. "I'll tell you what. Here." Sam said and he reaches into his pocket, pulls out a paper and pen, and starts writing down his cell number.

"If you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary...just give us a call." He said and he hands her the paper as we walk down the hallway.

*****

"All right, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town. There's gonna be some sort of proof—Like a local woman who died nasty." Dean said as we walk towards the library that night. "Yeah but a legend this widespread it's hard. I mean, there's like 50 versions of who she actually is. One story says she's a witch, another says she's a mutilated bride, there's a lot more." Sam said as we walk inside.

"All right so what are we supposed to be looking for?" I asked them. "Every version's got a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies right in front of a mirror. So we've gotta search local newspapers—public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill." Sam replies.

"Well that sounds annoying." Dean grumbles.

"No, it won't be so bad, as long as we..." he started to say but we look at the computers which all say Out of Order on them. 

"I take it back. This will be very annoying." Sam chuckles and I shake my head. "Well, what are we waiting for boys. Let's get to work." I said then I patted Dean's shoulder. "Don't let that pretty head of yours self-destruct." I teased him and he looks over at me.

"Hey!" He exclaims and I hear Sam chuckling and we start looking around the bookshelves and grab any book we could.

[thatonecode]

what car seat headrest songs would you recommend? :D

OH YOURE GONNA REGRET ASKING ME THIS !!!!! OHHHHH !!!!!!

im putting a read more link here because this got . exactly as long as i thought it would

okay well obviously to start with i'd recommend "Beach Life-In-Death" from the album "Twin Fantasy" (2018 version not 2011 . i like both versions but the 2018 is better production quality) . this is like . starter pack car seat headrest this song will change your entire fucking life . no dont go look at how long it is . its fine dont worry about it . this was the song that got me into csh its the song ive chosen to be my top song of the year ive listened to it 3 times everyday since the start of the year without missing any times . its a really fucking good song

actually ! that whole album is like . mindblowingly life changingly good and it literally ruined my entire life for . well i havent actually recovered ! months !!! twin fantasy is an album about falling in love with a fictionalized version of a person and watching the relationship crumble . its like . devastating i can't recommend it enough . if youre only going to listen to 3 songs off the album my person favs are "Beach Life-In-Death" (as mentioned), "Nervous Young Inhumans" and "Famous Prophets (Stars)" . also . throw "Sober to Death" in there as well just for fun as a bonus .

Teens of Denial is also a fantastic album i EXTREMELY recommend listening to "Drunk Drivers/Killer Whales" and "the Ballad of the Costa Concordia" . again . lives were changed . "Cosmic Hero", "1937 State Park" and "Fill in the Blank" also periodically live in my mind rent fucking free but yknow . i cant exactly recommend the entire album (EXCEPT I CAN !!! YOU SHOULD LISTEN TO THE WHOLE ALBUM !!!!!!)

moving away from album recs my personal favs recently have been "Crows - Rest In Bigger Pieces Mix" from the album "Nervous Young Man" . what if for just one night you turned into an animal yknow ??? its really good . and the other one is "The Ending of Dramamine" from the album "How to Leave Town" because ive been really Feeling the effects of my mental illness recently . "There Must Be More Than Blood" from "Making a Door Less Open" is also a very good song and SUPER easy to blorbo-ify if i do say so myself . "Over Exposed (Enjoy)" from "Monomania" is also . well . and somewhere down the line you'll look back/and say you did the best that you could and you'll be wrong/you're always wrong . so . theres that

confession i havent listened to their entire discography yet ive listened to twin fantasy, teens of denial, and MaDLO . i think monomania is next on my to listen to list .

some final general pointers if youre new to csh id recommend looking up the lyrics on your first listen through anything because will toledo hates enunciating like its personally wronged him . i recommend listening to twin fantasy alone in your room with all the lights off for peak effect (depression) . a general reminder csh is fucking Awful and i hate it and everytime i listen to it i go i cant believe i enjoy this and that its changed my life . this sounds awful . vast majority of csh songs are over 5 minutes and normally the REALLY good ones are 10+ minutes . you get used to it .

ALSO ! heres an incomplete google doc of my favourite lyics that im slowly updating as i come across them

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK !!! feel entirely free to send me either more asks with any thoughts on any songs or just dm me !!!! i love music so much i would deeply deeply love to talk about music any time :]

[tinyboxxtink]

"Summer Of '87" [Chapter 5]

I didn't see any new people asking for the tag list, but if you did or want to, please shoot me a message!

Tag List:

@gingertimelord

@witchwolflea

@loliakeoghan23

@fancytragedything

@eg-dr3amer3

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

-----------

You had taken one of the bunks in the back to take a nap before you arrived in Toledo. There were only four bunks so Eddie took the couch. Even after you insisted he keep his bunk and you’d take the couch.

“Nah, I’ll be fine princess. I used to sleep on a couch all the time back at home.” he assured you. 

Now here you were, waking up in the daylight. You sat up and stretched, quickly noticing you were alone on the bus. 

“What the--?”  You spoke out loud as you walked to the front of the bus. The bus is sitting in the back of a building, no one is around to be seen. 

“How rude!” You said aloud once more to the air as you walked towards the door of the building. It read “BACKSTAGE MEMBERS ONLY” . You naturally open the door to go in, but there’s a huge bodyguard standing right in front of it inside. 

“Sorry, no fans.” He tells you in a gruff voice. 

“What?!” You unintentionally screech. “I am not a--” 

“She’s cool, Jerry,” you recognize the bus driver “claiming” you. “She’s with Munson,” 

“I am not--” You started shutting down what he was implying, but the look he gave you made you pause. 

“Yup, that’s me. Eddie Munson’s concubine,” you rolled your eyes as you pushed past Jerry. 

“You’re welcome,” the bus driver smirked. 

“Yeah, thanks---” you muttered sarcastically as he led you through the venue.

“The boys are on stage sound doing sound check if you wanna go watch them,” he informed you while pointing to a doorway marked STAGE.

“Sure, why not,” you shrugged as you walked over and through the doorway. 

This venue was about the size of The Chicago Theater, but with a pit in front of the stage. You took a seat in one of the higher upper rows and sat, just watching them. Well, let’s be honest. You were watching Eddie.

The way his fingers moved on the guitar, it just made you wonder how good they would feel -- NOPE. Can’t be thinking stuff like that, nope. That’s exactly what should NOT be happening right now. 

As soon as the song was over he came out of his “Show mode” when he saw you. 

“Alright take five guys!” he yelled excitedly. 

“Take five?” Gareth groaned. “Dude we’re almost--” 

He started to protest that they had just started, but Eddie was already off stage and running up the arena stairs to you.

“Hey you!” he smiled widely, plopping down in the plastic seat next to you. “Sleep well?” 

“Yeah, actually,” you couldn’t help but match his energy with a smile of your own. “THose beds are surprisingly comfy,” 

“Oh yeah, for sure.” he nodded. “We sprung for the comfy beds, gotta get my beauty sleep.” 

“Oh,” you suddenly felt guilty taking his bunk. “I’m sorry, I should’ve let you--”

“Oh no!” he quickly backtracked upon seeing your face. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. It was just a joke,” 

“Yeah, well--” you blushed. “I still feel bad,”

“Well, maybe next time we just share it,” he winked. “Although I don’t think we’d get much sleeping done.” 

“Eddie!!!” you hit him as your face turned a deeper shade of crimson. “You’re the one that set the one month rule, remember?” 

“Yeah, and I’ve been kicking myself all night for it,” he sighed as he leaned back in the chair. 

“Aw, poor baby,” you giggled. “Well think of it this way: we can get to know each other before we-- y’know,” 

“Give in to our urges?” He wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Yes, exactly,” you bit your lip with a smile. 

“Hey if you two are done smelling each other or whatever,” Gareth called from the stage. “Some of us would like to finish rehearsal so we can eat!!” 

“I’m gonna kill him before the end of the month, and then we won’t have to wait,” Eddie said in annoyancde as he stood up.

“Then you’d have to find another drummer,” you reminded him. 

“True,” He nodded before kissing your cheek and heading back down the the stage, yelling something vulgar to Gareth you couldn’t quite discern, but you assumed it was vicious.

---------------

After sound check the band headed back out into the foyer where you met them. 

“Alright, so where can we get some food in this town?”

“You mean, somewhere where girls won’t follow your every move? Steal your food to sell to the highest CC fan?”

“Yes, that.” 

“Well, I do know of a small sandwich shop nearby. It’s family owned and I used to go there every day after classes.” 

“Sandwich shop?” Quentin crinkled his nose. “Sounds fancy,”

“How does that sound fancy?” Eddie rolled his eyes. “You mean if it’s not greasy, grilled or fried it’s too ‘fancy’ for you?” 

“Yeah!” 

“And ‘fancy’ sounds expensive.” Jeff added.

“Will you two shut up,” Eddie hit the both of them. 

“I promise you boys, it is neither ‘fancy’ nor ‘expensive.” 

“Fine,” Gareth sighed. “But if there are flowers and pictures of old-timey folks on the walls, I’m leaving.”

“....What kind of definition of fancy is that?” You whispered to eddie as you walked out of the arena.

“His mom watched too much ‘Keeping Up Appearances’ when he was a kid,” he chuckled. 

-------------------

As soon as you walked into the shop, the owner saw you from a mile away and ran over to hug you. 

“Y/N!” He cried joyfully as he hugged you. “So good to see you, we’ve missed you since you went away to fancy school,” 

“Oh Arthur,” you chuckled as you hugged him back. “It’s just grad school.” 

“Mama!” he called to the back. “Look who’s here!”

A little old lady came shuffling out of the back when he called. Her eyes lit up when she saw you, and she came running over.

“Y/N!!” She also grabbed you in a bear hug. “We’ve missed you!!!” 

“I heard,” you smiled. 

“In fact,” Arthur chuckled as he grabbed you a menu and handed it to you. “We missed you so much mama insisted we do this,”

You took the menu curiously and opened the page. There in the middle of the menu read: “THE Y/N”; it was the same meal you ordered everyday. A grilled cheese made with white and yellow cheddar, the bread buttered on both sides with fries and a cherry coke.

“Arthur!” You gasped while Eddie peered over your shoulder. “Emily you really shouldn’t have,”

“That actually sounds really good,” he smiled as he showed the rest of the band members. “Grilled AND greasy, Q,” 

“Oh, are these boys with you?” Emily asked. “I guess I should’ve known, we don’t get too many of you metal boys here,” 

“You know what metal is?” Jeff asked in shock as they followed her to a small table in the back. 

“Oh yes, our granddaughter is crazy about you.” Arthur chuckled. “Collided Crowbar, is it?” 

“Corroded Coffin, sir,” Eddie stifled a laugh as he corrected him. 

“Right, right,” He nodded. “So, will it be five Y/N specials then?” 

“Sounds good to me!” Gareth grinned. He loved grilled cheeses and cherry coke. 

“Yes that would be great sir,” Eddie replied in a polite tone as the others nodded in agreement. 

“Excellent!” he beamed. “Be right back,” 

--------

When he was gone, Eddie looked at you with an impressed smile. 

“What…?” you blushed. 

“A sandwich named after you, huh?” he smirked. “We don’t even have that,” 

“Oh yeah?” you smirked back. “And what would a ‘Collided Crowar’ sandwich have on it?” 

“Bacon!” Jeff chimed in. “Lots of bacon,” 

“And anchovies,” Quentin grinned. 

“Ewwwwww,”

“Absolutely NOT,” Eddie waved his hand. 

“Five cherry cokes!” Emily smiled as she approached the tables with a tray of soda. “And your food will be out soon,”

“Thank you ma’am,” Eddie smiled at her. 

“Oooh, young man.” Emily smiled back at him dreamily. “If i was younger, you and I would have quite the time,” 

“Emily!!!” you gasped while the boys snickered and Eddie blushed like a tomato.

“Oh, sorry dear.” She looks at you apologetically. “I didn’t realize you two were together,” 

“We’re not!!” You shut her down so quickly you noticed Eddie’s face falter a bit.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Arthur came up behind Emily with the food. 

“You two are awful,” you shook your head as they handed out the plates. 

“Yeah, awful,” Eddie said softly in a hurt tone while picking at his sandwich. 

“Oh come on Eddie,” you put a hand on his knee under the table. “You know I didn’t mean it like that--” 

“UH, if you’re trying to make eddie jealous or something, this ain’t it,” Gareth shifted his knee, the one you were actually caressing. 

“Oh my god,” you quickly removed your hand and sat it back in your lap, turning bright red while the rest of the group laughed loudly leaving Eddie clueless.  

“What…?” 

“Just-- eat your sandwich dear,” you blushed harder while Eddie furrowed his eyebrows. 

“No, what--”

“Your girlfriend just tried feeling me up, Munson,” Gareth smirked, making Eddie’s pop out of his head. 

“WHAT?!”

“I thought it was you!!!” You hissed, trying not to make a scene. “I thought I was doing this,” You made sure you gripped his knee this time. 

“But i didn’t do this,” you added with a sexy smile as your fingers ran up his thigh, causing his leg to thump the table so hard it shook everyone’s plates.

“Check please!” Quentin laughed. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it boys,” Arthur came walking over, having heard none of the conversation except the check. 

“Any friends of Y/N’s are friends here,” 

“You really don’t have to do that,” You insisted as the boys finished up their food and walked towards the front. 

“Nonsense,” Arthur kissed your forehead. “It was just nice to see you again, sweetheart.” 

“Well sir,” Eddie pulled out his wallet. “Please at least take this tip,” he handed him a fifty dollar bill.

“Oh no son, I couldn’t.” he waved his hands but you stuck the fifty in his shirt pocket. 

“You can and you will, Arthur.” You said semi sternly. “I know how hard this business is,” 

“Well, alright,” Arthur said softly with a grateful look between the two of you. You said your goodbyes to Emily and Arthur then met the band outside to walk back.

--------

“Well I gotta admit Y/N, you taste pretty good,” Gareth smirked, causing Eddie to punch his shoulder roughly.

“Say one more thing about her and I won’t hold back,” he growled as you held his upper arm. 

“Edds, it’s okay…” You soothed him. 

“No, he’s been nothing but nasty to you, even though he’s the one who asked you to come with us!” He argued. 

“Maybe he’s jealous,” Jeff suggested, immediately causing Gareth to smack him.

“Jealous of me?” Eddie laughed sarcastically. “Did you honestly ask Y/N to come because you like her?” 

“Yeah, um Edds--” Quentin coughed awkwardly. “I don’t think that’s what Jeff was--”

“Everybody SHUT UP,” Gareth grabbed Quentin by the collar while he yelled violently. 

“Whoa whoa whoa! Chill, Gar!” Eddie grabbed him by his jacket. “I was only--”

“Eddie you better let him go,” you warned as you saw the looks on the boy’s faces. You quickly realized what was happening and thankful Eddie hadn’t seemed to catch on. 

“Wha--?” he let go of Gareth and the three of them started to speed walk ahead of you. 

“What was that?” he just watched them leave in confusion.

“Babe, let’s just say I don’t think you have to worry about competing with Gareth, okay?” You took his hand. 

“Um…okay,” he nodded as he interlaced your fingers while continuing to walk.

You made a mental note to find Gareth after the show to have a heart to heart about what just happened. That wouldn’t be awkward, right?

-----

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[vicvinegarandhughhoney]

Jack goes head over heels for Spirit Week- Prompt: Fainting

Fandom: A.P. Bio

A blood drive at Whitlock for Spirit Week doesn't quite go to plan.

Read here or below the cut!

Back when Toledo, Ohio had seemed more like a temporary place of refuge where Jack licked his wounds from his Harvard disgrace, the idea of remaining there for not just one but two Spirit Weeks would have been scoffed at. Jack Griffin, ex-Harvard grad and professor, becoming any sort of ambassador for a high school in Toledo? No chance. 

Life has a way of surprising you, though, and Jack’s surprise comes in the form of vibrant banners and Ram pins on his signature cardigans that he wouldn’t have been seen dead in before. 

Strangest of all, it comes in the form of... a blood drive?

Mary, Stef, and Michelle are of course the perpetrators of this scheme- he’s only standing in this queue because they dragged him into it after them, chattering amongst themselves about how good the cookies are that they give you after the donation. Jack had closed his ears to that discussion, though, because even just the word ‘donation’ has him feeling a little lightheaded. Nope. This is not a good idea. How the hell has he been tricked into doing this, into giving away his precious lifeblood for a school in Ohio of all places?

It’s stupid. It’s ridiculous. Really, he has no reason to remain in this queue at all. If he’s super inconspicuous, maybe he can just slide his way out and-

“Hey, no weaselling your way out of this!” Mary chides, taking him by the arm just as he makes the first move to escape. “I know you’re severely lacking in school spirit, but come on, Jack. It’s for a good cause!”

Jack swallows, shrugging his shoulders in a way he hopes makes him look nonchalant- like his lack of school spirit actually is the reason for his antipathy. 

“Hey, I’m... I’m doing my part already, right?” He gestures vaguely to the Ram pin, and Stef rolls her eyes. 

“A pin ain’t helping any sick kids, Jack. This is about more than just Whitlock! It’s about the kids... and the cookies... mostly the kids.”

The other ladies nod in agreement, and Jack feels a little too much like the emblem on his chest. He’s fenced in here, unable to do anything but bleat out excuses and butt his horns, because if he tells them the truth- that he does not react well to giving blood- he’s done for. It’s goddamn embarrassing.

So, all he does is wait in the line, watching the three women in front of him step past the curtain one by one, heart hammering in his chest for the moment when he’s forced to take a step forward. He turns around- only a few other teachers are behind him, one being Dave, who gives him a creepy little wave.

Oh God. It’s either Dave or giving blood, and he doesn’t know which is worse.

“Alright, Jack, in you go.”

He turns, and Michelle is in front of him, Stef and Mary at either side of her. All three have tiny cotton balls taped against their forearms. Jack thinks he might be sick.

“Wow, does the thought of helping those kids upset you that much?” Stef teases, clearly noticing his hesitation. “Get in there, and we’ll follow you to make sure we have proof of your good deed. And to make sure you actually go through with it.”

Jack looks from her to the blue curtain in the nurses office. Back to Stef.

“Go on.” She says, giving him a little playful push. “We won’t judge you for your philanthropy too much, if that’s what you’re worried about, tough guy.”

It’s not what he’s worried about at all, actually. What he is worried about is the likelihood of him greening out over a single goddamn needle, which is, from past experience, pretty fucking high. So at last, when Stef tries to urge him even further forward, he turns around and gives up the ghost.

“Look, I... I don’t know whether this is such a good idea. I don’t... I’m not good with... with blood.”

Mary snorts. “You don’t have to look at it if you don’t want to, ya big baby. Just turn your head away.”

Jack rouges. Fuck. They’re not getting it at all.

“No, it’s not... it’s not that I don’t like the sight of blood, I just... my body doesn’t... I’m not good with giving blood. I get, like, reactions and shit. Reactions that I would rather not put up with, if I’m being completely honest with you.”

He sighs, averting his eyes as the tips of his ears redden too, expecting to at last be granted an ‘out’ (even if it does mean he’s laughed at for the rest of the day).

Instead, though-

“Yeah, yeah, enough with the excuses. Come on, get in there! We’re right behind you.”

And with that, before he can loose another sound of protest, he’s pushed forward on the tidal wave of his supposed friends in through the door and past the blue curtain, coming face to face with that dreaded chair and a sweetly-smiling nurse who has no idea what she’s about to get into.

“Hi there. Just take a seat for me, and get comfortable.”

Jack turns, but is met with a brick wall shaped like Mary, Stef, and Michelle. Beneath their unbelieving gaze, all he can do is slink away and sit down in the chair.

“Our friend here’s a little nervous.” Mary announces, causing Jack’s ears to tinge an even deeper shade of magenta than he thought possible. “Is it okay if we just stand here?”

The nurse, turned away as she fiddles with the tools (needleneedleneedleneedle), turns back to them briefly to flash a disarming smile.

“Oh, of course! No worries at all.” She focuses her attention on Jack, and he shrinks beneath it. He feels like a little kid again, sat in the doctor’s office while the nurse convinces him that he’s being overdramatic, that he’ll be fine. “I’ll be as quick as I can, alright?”

When she next swivels round, she’s holding the thing- a needle in one hand, a vial in the other. Jack blanches.

“Look, I just- I get reactions. I think maybe- I don’t know whether-“

The nurse gives him another gentle smile, one that he can tell is underpinned by the same disbelief in his claims that Mary, Stef, and Michelle all feel too. He’s a grown man, and that means he can’t be capable of fainting because of a needle, right? He doesn’t fit the profile for that kind of donor.

“It’ll be fine.” She tells him, already inching closer and-

He squeezes his eyes shut, because there’s nothing else he can do now. She’s wiping his arm, and she isn’t listening to a word of what he’s saying, and then he feels that tell-tale pinch of the needle. He barely flinches, because it isn’t the pain that scares him, and in fact his shoulders sag a little the moment it enters, a sign that the nurse interprets as relaxation.

“See? Not so bad.”

What she doesn’t know, of course, is that she’s witnessing a resigned acceptance, not relaxation. He knows now that he can’t stop what’s about to happen, and though it doesn’t make things any more bearable, there’s at least no point in trying to fight it anymore. His head is swimming a little already.

“There. All done. You can open your eyes now, I promise.”

He does. The ladies are all looking at him a little triumphantly.

“We were trying to tell you in the line that it wasn’t painful, but no, Harvard always knows best. Bet you feel silly now, huh? Hey, take a cookie.”

Jack offers Mary, the speaker, a weak smile. She’s not trying to be cruel, and really he might be okay this time anyway.

“We’re supposed to make you wait fifteen minutes, but you’ll be fine.” The nurse says. Jack wants to laugh at her.

Yeah, right.

“Come on, Jack.” Michelle beckons.

As he swings his legs over the side and stands up for the first time, he thinks for a moment that maybe his theatrics were a bit much. That perhaps his past experiences were all freak happenings, or that this time, by fluke, he’s escaped syncope after all.

The next few steps, however, dispel him of that notion instantly.

Oh shit. He’s fucked.

Within seconds, his vision is tunnelling, and he reaches out blindly for one of the women to cling onto. He lands on Stef, who laughs a little at his first clawing grasp, clearly thinking he’s playing it up as a joke even as pins and needles start to prickle at the back of his neck, weighing down the rest of his limbs.

“Yeah, very funny, Jack. What, you gonna pass out now?”

And ironically, that’s exactly what he does.

**

“Jack?... Jack?”

He’s floating and sinking at the same time, filled with an indescribable mixture of heaviness in his limbs and a lightness in his head. It’s almost like he’s drifting on the ocean, especially thanks to the voices which ebb and flow in his awareness. The only thing dispelling him of that notion, in fact, is the cold hard surface which he can feel his cheek is pressed up against. He’s certain it can’t be water.

“Okay, don’t panic- hey, can you get his shoulders? Perfect. And you? Yeah, just underneath his feet, thanks.”

The waves- no, not waves, though he can’t be sure what exactly they are- tickle his skin, and he feels himself slightly jostled beneath their tugging current.

“1...”

An ache makes itself known in his every limb.

“2...”

His mouth is uncomfortably dry.

“3.”

The tide surges upwards, and he’s carried with it, lurching nauseatingly away from the cool surface he was previously anchored to. Thankfully, it isn’t long before his sanctuary is replaced by another, and he’s lowered back down somewhere a little more comfortable. When he turns his head, shuddering, his nose brushes against a leather-like material.

A few more voices jumble in the haze that is his consciousness, but they appear directed towards each other rather than him so he lets himself sink against this new surface, tuning everything out.

Of course, though, he doesn’t exist unbothered for long.

“Jack... Hey, sweetheart, can I get you to open your eyes for me?... Jack?”

The voice isn’t one his mind latches onto as familiar. Well, it is familiar, but not as familiar as-

“Come on, Jack. Open your eyes for us, okay?”

He knows that one. Yes. Mary. Definitely.

A cool touch brushes against his forehead and he manages just enough strength to loose a low groan, one that rumbles in his chest and leaves him feeling breathless in spite of its brevity.

“That’s it, you’re alright. Easy now.”

Another touch, this time pressing firmly against his wrist.

“He’s doing okay.” The not-quite-familiar voice again. “Pulse is speeding up a little again.”

“Is that good?” Stef now.

“It is... could you open a window? Just to get some fresh air in here?”

Footsteps, then a faint click. A breeze tickles Jack’s cheek. At last, he inhales a breath deep enough to allow his eyes to open a crack.

Everything’s a little blurred at first, and the lights of the room make his head throb, but a few figures bob into view. One of them is the nurse from before (of course, that’s the not-quite-familiar voice), but her slightly apologetic smile is quickly swallowed up by the other faces that lurch into his eye line.

“Oh, thank God.” The blurred form with Stef’s voice sighs.

“We are so sorry.” Michelle this time.

Jack wants to formulate a response- something like an ‘I told you so’, because he’s remembering where he is again and it seems fitting given the situation- but his mouth feels tacky and all he can utter is another sickly sounding groan of disapproval, rolling his barely open eyes before they quickly flutter closed again.

“Jack? Jack?!”

He shudders, sniffing weakly. “Mm... m’here.”

A collective sigh of relief, followed by Mary’s voice.

“Okay. Just checking...” When she next speaks, it’s a little fainter, and he can tell she isn’t directing her words to him but instead to the nurse now standing somewhere else in the room. “Is it normal for him to be this pale?”

Some more clicking footsteps, then a noncommittal hum. “I’ll... I’ll go fetch something to get his blood sugar up.”

For the next few moments, he’s mostly undisturbed, drifting in and out of awareness while somebody cards through his hair. The hushed whispers of the women only break through occasionally.

“I thought he was just playing around with us. I didn’t think he was actually going to pass out.”

“Yeah, me neither... God, poor guy. Did you see him reach out for you?”

“Mhmm.”

It’s hard to focus in on anything, but from what he can tell, he’s being coddled from all angles right now. There are hands in his hair, one holding his- another one is brushing against his cheek, pinching lightly every so often as if to will the colour to bloom in his face again.

“Here we go.” He hadn’t heard the footsteps, but the nurse is apparently back. “See if you can get him to have some of that- slowly, though. Don’t want him to make himself sick.”

“Yeah, okay... Jack? Hey, we’ve got something for you.”

He swallows thickly. The thought of anything else but sleep right now is wholly unappealing. “Mm...”

“Jack?”

He curls in further on himself with a little shudder, and he hears another sigh.

“Alright, you don’t even need to open your eyes. Just have a small sip of this, please?”

Something rough and plastic swipes against his bottom lip- a straw. He barely has the energy to move, but opening his mouth is just about manageable. While the straw is held in place, he takes a languid sip, the dryness on his tongue thankfully disappearing beneath a gentle flood of... orange juice?

“Good job, Jack. That’s it. Nice and slow.”

After a few meagre sips, he pulls backwards, and whoever’s holding the juice box thankfully gets the hint. He really doesn’t want anything else.

Just as he’s about to drift off again, though, he’s interrupted.

“Jack...”

“Mmm...”

“I’m afraid we’re gonna have to get you set up somewhere else, okay? Believe it or not there are still a few people up for the blood drive after your spectacle.”

He opens one eye, barely resisting the urge to fall asleep. “Mm... Do I have to?”

“Move?” Mary answers. 

Jack nods. 

“Yeah... sorry, bud.”

“Oh... s’okay.”

Stef laughs a little, probably because he’s never so docile when he’s not on the verge of unconsciousness, but it’s tinged with fondness. 

“Alright, Jack. Let’s get you onto that break room couch.”

**

There are few things Lynette gets to see in her job as a payroll officer that are actually interesting- usually, it’s the odd student fight in the hallways, or a gossipy email from Joyce about one of the parents. Today, however, things have been pretty damn boring, and her only consolation is that it’s lunchtime, which means she has a bit of a break from the humdrum to catch up with some of the teachers. They often have something good to say. 

Plus, of course, it’s where she gets to spend a few minutes with her boyfriend, and she hasn’t heard from him all morning, which is... odd. Usually, they’re texting back and forth, even when he’s supposed to be teaching (not that Lynette explicitly endorses this). 

She’s in the middle of pondering just why he might be radio silent when she wanders into the break room, and in an instant, her questions are answered for her. Although plenty more arise. 

Jack is curled up on the couch, heaped with blankets, and judging by his closed eyes, unfurrowed brow, and the way he doesn’t seem aware of Mary, Stef, and Michelle fussing over him, he’s out like a light. She knows he’s fond of naps, but as far as she knows, he’s never taken one in the break room where the women can latch onto his vulnerability. It’s not a good sign. The unnatural pallor of his cheeks doesn’t exactly bode well either. 

“Oh God...” she murmurs, setting down her mug on the side and moving closer to the couch. “Please tell me it’s not the flu again.”

Her hand brushes lightly against his forehead as she crouches down, but her attempt to feel for fever comes back with promising results. Aside from being a little clammy, he doesn’t feel sick. 

“It’s not.” Mary assures her quietly, still dragging her fingers through his hair every so often in a soothing motion. Perhaps it should make Lynette jealous, but she knows Jack’s friendship with the women well enough to understand that there’s nothing sexual in the touch. 

“So...?”

Michelle smiles a little. “He, uh... he passed out. After giving blood.”

Lynette’s anxiety slips away entirely, and she can’t help but smile too. “Of course he did. And I bet you didn’t believe him when he told you he was going to.”

Stef frowns. “Wait, you know that he faints after blood donations?!”

“Uh, yeah. I’m his girlfriend, remember? I literally had to haul him off the floor after they asked for a blood test at his last doctor’s appointment. Happens like clockwork, bless him.”

She turns her attention back to her sleeping boyfriend, the hand she placed at his forehead moving down to stroke his cheek. Where usually he would lean in to press a kiss to her palm, today he doesn’t move a muscle. God, he really is exhausted. 

“So he’s going to be okay, then?” Mary asks, a little tentatively. 

Lynette smiles at her concern. “He’s going to be fine. Old man just needs a nap. And maybe a sugar cube.”

Michelle tilts her head. “A sugar cube? Like the things you give to horses?”

It’s at this moment that Jack decides to stir, smiling sleepily. “Neeighhhh...”

Lynette’s gaze flits to him, mirth lifting the corners of her own mouth as she strokes along the curve of his jaw again. “Ah. There we are. You awake, Secretariat?”

Jack only mumbles incoherently, the breath he exhales through his nostrils warming the skin of her hand, but it’s good enough for her. She leans in to press a kiss against his nose, just as he drifts back off again. 

“Yeah... didn’t think so. Sleep well, hon.”

And, when she eventually has to return to her desk alongside the chattiest of gossips, she does so safe in the knowledge that Jack is being looked after. With Mary, Stef, and Michelle, he always is in the end.

***